Disappointment
by JCL1371
Summary: This is the tale of Jeral of Candlekeep, a bard who struggles to meet the expectations of others as he enters out into the world beyond the castle walls.
1. Chapter 1: Tournament Time

Disappointment

Prologue

Greetings all! I am a huge BG fan and have really enjoyed reading all the fan fiction over the years. In fact I enjoyed some of them so much that I wanted to give it a try. In all the times I have played BG I have enjoyed playing bards and thieves most of all. So when it came to write a tale it came down to picking one of those options for the protagonist. The more I thought of it the more writing about a bard made more sense. Raised by one of the greatest wizards in the realm it felt natural that Jeral, despite his true parentage, could only fail to measure up to his father. Raised in a library fortress the paths of ranger and druid made no sense. And as a child of Baahl service as a cleric or paladin seemed impossible.

So this is my tale of Jeral the bard. I hope you like it.

And like all other fan fiction, Jeral is mine. Everything else belongs to the fine folks at BioWare.

Disappointment Chapter 1: Tournament Time

"Have you lost your senses child? This is a tournament for entry into the Watchers. All of your opponents have been tested in battle. You are entering into a tournament today against seven heavily armed men wearing that?"

Jeral looked his attire up and down. Shrugging his shoulders he stared up at Gorion. "What do you mean father? I have my armor, my shield and my weapon. All I lack is a helmet and you have said many times that vision is as much of a weapon as any blade."

Smiling Gorion looked down on his adoptive son, "You remember what you want to remember. You always do. It is true that vision is one weapon, and it can be a powerful one. However, your shield and armor are also very important weapons, particularly in a test of close combat. I hardly think that a set of ill fitting studded leathers and a bucker qualifies as armor and a shield. Your opponents all are clad in metal armor of one sort or another, most have real shields unlike that pot lid that you carry, and lastly all have helms."

Jerel stared back determinedly at his father, "I wear more armor than you father; besides armor is expensive, this is all I could afford."

Chuckling Gorion shook his head. "I am a wizard, and modestly I can say I am a very good one at that, my boy. The arcane arts are the only weapon I need." With a snap of his fingers a blue haze surrounded Gorion. Jeral had no doubt that it made him impervious to harm. "And you my son, despite my best efforts, only have a limited affinity for magic. Therefore, you need to master the skills of the warrior. The world is a dangerous place and you will need to protect yourself someday. I wish it was otherwise but you will need to be able to defend yourself."

"You keep telling me that the world is a dangerous place. In all the years I have lived here in Candlekeep you have always worked to prepare me. All the studies, the exercise, the weapons training, it all must have some purpose."

"It does child, the world is a dangerous place and you have a role in it."  
>"Role, what role?" Gorion signed deeply, and hesitated before answering.<p>

"Well we could not have picked a worse time for this conversation but I suppose you are of an age where I can no longer delay responding. You are a man fully grown after all. Do you remember when a seer came to Candlekeep years ago when you were a small child."

"Miss Muriella? I remember her. She gave me sweets and played ball with me."

"Yes well, I had too much to drink with Winthrop one night while she was here. Purely on a lark I decided to ask her for a reading. She saw that a great warrior would play a major role in my life."

"So? That could be anyone. "

"She said a warrior who was orphaned as a baby. That must be you."

"So is that why you pressured me to be a warrior?"

"I did no such thing!"

"Sure you did. Remember three summers ago when I wanted to be a Priest of Oghma? You stopped that from happening."  
>"Child, you must trust me when I say that you, of all people, should have as little to do with the Gods as possible."<p>

"Well there are other options for a path father."

"Child, not again with that thief nonsense."

"Yes again father. I am quick and agile and good with my hands."

"You are also quite strong, and skilled with the long bow, and numerous blades. You have the size and the constitution of the warrior. In fact you are already an accomplished archer, you may be the best in Candlekeep. Your skills with a sword continue to improve, however today you may find your limits tested."

"That may be true but I think I have the gift for something else. I could be a good warrior, but in my heart I know my path lies elsewhere."

"Where does it then lie child?"

"I don't know, maybe I can be a thief."

"That is an evil, unscrupulous profession."

"So? I will be the first honest thief, I will break the mold."

"Stop this nonsense. Listen to your words, 'honest thief'? You are better than that. The way of the warrior is the right path for you. It has been foretold."

"Visions mean nothing, besides Imoen is developing the skills of a thief."

"Imoen should be a mage, she has far more magical talent than you. She just needs to focus and pay attention."

"Well then we are in agreement, with no other option available I am left as I am. I will be Jeral the bard, ward of Gorion."

Gorion scowled and tossed his hands in the air. "Bah! Bards are a waste of mankind. They are nothing but second rate fighters, third rate wizards, and nothing else. They are good for little more than entertaining drunks in taverns." Breaking into a smile Gorion softened his tone and lowered his voice.

"Besides, child, you have a terrible singing voice and cannot play any instrument."

"But I can dance father."

Laughing, Gorion had to agree. "True enough. You did learn that skill admirably well. You are amazingly coordinated and agile and the ladies will swoon to dance with you."

Gorion's voice hardened again as he shook his head.

"Jeral, you must understand, I have worked for nearly 20 years to prepare you for the challenges ahead. You need to become powerful to survive. You have limited magical ability so you need to be a warrior. There was, and is, no other option."

"On that we will have to agree to disagree. Since you taught me how to read I have immersed myself in the tomes of this great library. I have read almost everything that Candlekeep has to offer. My knowledge of the library rivals that of Ulrant himself. Over time I came to realize that many of the greatest tomes in this library were written by bards. Not only do I want to experience what the world has to offer, I want to chronicle it as well."

"Those books were no doubt written through an alcohol fueled haze of exaggeration and lies!"

"Bards live life and experience adventure. I have spent my life in a Library! What else do you expect of me? I am strong and have trained in a wide varirty of weapons. Thanks to you I am also intelligent, very well read, learned and trained in some level of magic. It seems a shame to not use all of my gifts." Jeral was red faced and talking through chelched teeth at at equally red faced wizard.

"Not again with this madness, you must have power to survive child. I fear that the list of powerful bards in the history of the realms in short indeed."

"Well is my my life and my decision father, and who knows? I may become the most powerful bard in the history of the realms." Jeral smiled suddenly and hugged his father. Gorion fiercely returned the hug.

In the background trumpets sounded and the pair reluctantly broke the embrace.

"I must go. The tournament is about to begin. Wish me luck."

"Be well child. Know that you must fight with your head as well as your sword. Watch your opponents to determine their weaknesses. And no using cantrips in the duels, any use of magic is forbidden."

Jeral nodded and left the chamber excited that he was finally of age to enter the tournament.

The eight Watcher candidates stood in a circle on the practice field of Candlekeep. Hull, the gruff Sergeant of the guard stood in the middle of the circle.

"Welcome to the tournament of the Watchers. As you know each spring we hold a tournament for all the warriors who desire entry into the Watchers. This year we have only one opening in the Watchers and that position will go to the warrior who wins the tournament."

A murmur spread through the ranks. In normal years there were two or three openings. This year would be a hard fought tournament as many of the young men were desperate to become a Watcher and enter into a profession that would allow for them to provide for their families. Jeral had no desire to join the Watchers, he just wanted the fighting experience so the news did not matter to him in the least. When Jeral won he planned to turn down the position and allow the second place fighter to take the position.

Jeral was in the second match. His opponent was Borpheus, a large man in his early 20s from a local village. Jeral remembered watching Borpheus fight in the prior year's tournament. In that tournament he lost in the first round. He was extremely strong and fought with a great two handed sword. But he was so slow that he left himself vulnerable to a quick counterattack.

Both men were introduced and led into the ring. Their weapons were bound in leathers to reduce the deadly threat to the combatants. Two priests stood nearby, prepared to heal or raise the combatants as needed.

Hull stood between the two combatants. They saluted Hull and then one another. He quickly stepped aside and bellowed, "Begin!"

Borpheus bellowed and charged, holding his sword over his head. Jeral calmly sidestepped the wild charge and swung horizontally striking the large man in his midsection. Borpheus grunted in pain as the padded sword struck against his splint mail. He finished his charge and whirled around to face Jeral.

"Point Jeral!" Hull shouted.

Borpheus swung wildly as he advanced on Jeral. Jeral slowly backpedaled and waited for his next opening. Borpheus took another great overhead swing. Jeral waited until the sword bit into the soft soil of the pit. He planted his left leg on the blade, leaned forward and launched a backhand horizontal swing at Borpheus. Jeral's sword connected with the man's upper chest and he let out a grunt of pain. Not letting up Jeral reversed his swing and smacked the long sword into the man's helm. His helm dented in and blood started to flow from the big man's helmet. Hull's shouts of point once and then again were quickly followed by a declaration of Jeral as the winner. Jeral quickly shook hands with Borpheus and retired to the shade. The clerics stepped in and tended to Borpheus as he made his plans for the following year's tournament.

In round two Jeral was faced off against the oldest man in the tournament. Saman looked to be of late middle age and claimed to be a soldier who had served numerous campaigns with the Amnian army. He was now the assistant blacksmith in Candlekeep. He was wearing well made plate mail and was armed with a bastard sword and medium sized shield. A close face helm rested atop his head. As this was Saman's first tournament Jeral had never seen the man fight before. Saman's first round opponent was no challenge so Jeral had little information on his fighting style.

The two entered the ring and squared off against one another. After the requiste salutes the two combatants advanced on one another. Jeral attacked with an overhead swing that was easily defended. Saman made a few sword feints and Jeral countered with a few of his own. Jeral stabbed out with his sword and closed with Saman. Surprising Jeral, Saman turned sideways, pushed aside the strike with his shield and then shield punched Jeral. Jeral backpedaled as he saw stars and felt blood trickling down his face from his split lip and bloddy nose.

"Point Saman."

"I bet a helm would be handy now child." Through the pain Jeral could clearly hear Gorion's sarcastic voice above the crowd.

Jeral was on the defensive as he recovered his vision and cleared his head. Jeral parried a few blows from the older man as he waited for an opening. Seeing an opening Jeral attacked high, yet his attack was quickly parried and Jeral was soon on the defensive as Saman rained blow after blow on his buckler.

"Point Saman!"

Jeral's arm screamed in pain as the buckler was shattered from repeated blows. In desperation Jeral feigned an overhead attack. As Saman raised his shield to respond, Jeral dropped to his knees and swung. Now under Saman's guard, Jeral connected with the warrior's armored left knee. Saman grunted in pain. Jeral quickly swung twice more at the knee before Saman recovered. Jeral quickly scrambled to his feet and backed up as Saman limped after him.

"Point Jeral!"

Jeral's shield arm hung limply at his side. Saman angled to Jeral's left looking to exploit his vulnerability. Jeral realized that if he was struck again he would lose the match. Jeral growled and swung at Saman's head. As anticipated the older man raised his shield to protect his head. As Jeral's sword connected with Saman's shield he levered his left leg up and launched it at the side of Saman's right knee. Jeral's boot connected with the armored knee and he felt the thinly armored joint give as he heard the knee crack. Saman collapsed in a heap, dropping his sword and shield to hold his wounded knee.

"Point Jeral!" Hull cried. He stepped in to examine the older man. After a hushed conversation he stood up. "Saman cannot continue. Jeral wins the match."

Jeral offered his hand to Saman but the injuried warrior slapped the hand away and called Jeral a man without honor for fighting dirty. The clerics stepped in to work on Saman's injured knee and Jeral departed the ring.

Shaking his head Jeral returned to the shade. _I don't know why he is so upset. That is legal within the rules of the tournament. I should know. Gorion made me memorize the rules. Sore loser. He was the better fighter by far, so of course I had to try something unorthedox to win. Gorion always says "find the advantage and use it." _

Shortly it was time for the finals. Jeral could barely move his left arm. He was allowed to replace his damaged buckler but, per tournament rules, clerical healing was only allowed after a man was eliminated from the tournament. Jeral chewed on some berrum root to help numb the pain as he walked into the circle for the final match.

Jeral's opponent was a small slight man who stood barely over five feet tall. He was the smallest man in the tournament but that clearly had not hindered him in this tournament. His name was Yoktori and he had appeared at Candlekeep over the winter. He said little and spent most of his time either in the library, or tending the gardens in front of his home. He carried himself with a quiet assurance and had quickly defeated his prior two opponents. He was very thin and was at least a decade and a half Jeral's senior. His white hair was closely cropped and covered by a small open faced helm. He was wearing gleaming finely wroght chainmail and wielded a curved katana in his right hand and a short sword in his left hand. Jeral had read about the katana but had never seen one used. He had also never seen a man fight with two weapons before. Jeral sensed that this man was quite skilled and feared he was overmatched. Feeling was returning to his left arm and he had size and reach on his opponent. Yet despite the apparent advantages Jeral was concerned.

Hull announced the finals and Jeral was surprised to see that a large crowd had gathered. Nearly everyone at Candlekeep was watching the finals to see how Gorion's ward would fare in his first tournament. Many had neglected to attend before the finals. After the perfunctory salutes the final combat began. Jeral warily circled to his right as he sized up his opponent. Yoktori looked almost bored and had yet to be so much as touched in previous rounds of the tournament. Jeral twirled his sword from side to side as he advanced. Jeral lept forward and attacked with a sweeping horizontal strike. Yoktori leaned back and the sword passed harmlessly inches from his chest. Smiling slightly, Yoktori leapt forward while Jeral was on the backswing. He parried Jeral's backswing with the katana in his right hand and stabbed forward with his short sword. Jeral was unable to twist his body out of the way and he grunted in pain as the padded tip of the short sword connected with his midsection.

"Point Yoktori!"

Jeral backpedaled and tried to catch his breath. Yoktori lazily advanced on Jeral and launched two overhand blows. Jeral leapt forward, his buckler caught the katana blow and his long sword pushed the short sword aside. Launching himself forward and down Jeral's forehead violently connected with the smaller man's nose. Yoktori's nose broke with an audible "crack" and blood spurted down the smaller man's face.

"Point Jeral!" A flicker of annoyance briefly passed across the smaller man's face before it was replaced again by his bored expression.

Before Jeral could celebrate his successful attack Yoktori pivoted and ended up standing to Jeral's side. He twirled his weapons in an ornate series of patterns and rained multiple blows on Jeral's injured shield arm. Jeral cried out in pain as his shield arm fell numbly to his side for the second time in the tournament. Yoktori pivoted away and launched blow after blow at Jeral's sword arm. Jeral parried as quickly as he could but Yoktori slashed downward with his katana and connected with Jeral's sword hand. Jeral felt the bones in his hand shatter as he dropped his sword and fell to one knee. Defenseless Jeral looked up at Yoktori. Yoktori twirled his swords in an intricate pattern as he advanced on Jeral. Jeral was amazed to see that his opponent showed almost no emotion as he advanced on Jeral. The trickle of blood coming from the broken nose, dripping over a pale expressionless face was particularly unsettling to Jeral.

_I really need to learn that fighting style someday, I particularly like the curved katana, _Jeral mused to himself as he struggled to regain his footing.

Hull stepped between the combatants, "Jeral, do you yield?"

Jeral shakily came to his feet and thought about it.

Yoktori was the one to break the silence.

"There is no shame in honorable defeat. You fought valiantly and well, however, you have lost. Today is not your day. Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day for you."

Jeral locked eyes with the smaller man. His words had merit. Nodding once Jeral loudly announced, "I, Jeral of Candlekeep, yield the field of battle to the better warrior."

A round of applause went up as Hull declared Yoktori the winner and led him off to the celebration tent. Jeral slumped back to the ground as the clerics worked to heal his shattered hand and wounded arm.

_At least I made him bleed, that is more than anyone else did. _The thought of blood sent an excited chill up Jeral's spine.

_Blood. Why does that word have special meaning to me?_

Jeral sat on the field for a long time pondering the day's events. When he finally forced himself to return to the library to bathe and retire for the evening he found that sleep was a long time in coming.

The following morning Jeral sat down to breakfast in Winthrop's Inn. Gorion and Winthrop joined him at the table. Smiling Gorion tossed a small pouch onto the table. The clink of coins was clearly audible as it landed on the table. Jeral looked up from his meal and stared at the two older men.

"Yer dad and me made quite a bit o coin at the fights yesterday," Wintrop intoned.

"How is that possible? I lost."

"We know that boy. We were there. Gorion and me watched the warm-ups and saw that Yoktori was going to win. He was the best by far. So we bet on him and made a killing. Nice job with the head strike. I did not expect that and neither did he. You were the only one to hit him at all during the entire tournament."

"Wait a minute. You two, my father and one of his oldest friends, bet against me?"

"Of course we did boy. Friends are friends but money is money. It was nothing personal, just business. You need to remember that, for that is the way of the world."

Looking to keep Jeral calm Gorion hastily added, "If it makes you feel any better once we saw the tournament draw we bet on you to reach the finals."

Grudgingly Jeral smirked and nodded, "Well that does help, a little."

"Well me boy, Gorion and I know what will help some more. There are 50 gold in that pouch. That is your share of the winnings. Also, here is a going away gift from me."

Winthrop handed over a bundle wrapped in soft green felt. Jeral unrolled the felt and saw a long slender musical instrument made out of ebony wood polished to gleam like obsidian. Jeral picked it up and smiled broadly.

"It's a zink! Thank you Winthrop! I always wanted to learn how to play one of these."

Blushing Winthrop clapped his hands in delight.

"I am glad you like it lad, any bard worth his salt needs his own musical instrument." Noting Gorion's sour face Winthrop looked his old friend direcly in the eye with his fiercest stare. "You know as well as I do that the boy is stubborn. Like it or not your son is gonna be a bard, so deal with it." Turning back to Jeral Winthrop continued, "Since you cannot sing at all I figured something like this would prevent you from singing any more than necessary. That will spare your audience from any unnecessary suffering." He stared fondly and the musical instrument. "That belonged to a previous traveling companion of mine. Properly played it makes a beautiful sound. I am sure he would want you to have it."

"And where is he now?"

"Er….. well, um, he was killed in an ambush. In fact his death was the one that encouraged me to retire from the adventuring life. So I came here to Candlekeep and purchased this inn."

"Well thank you again for the zink, I am overwhelmed. Wait a minute. Going away gift? Where are you going?"

"Winthrop is not going anywhere Jeral. You and I are going on a trip. The time has come. You and I are leaving Candlekeep tonight. Say goodbye to no one. Just buy the equipment you need and meet me on the library steps at dusk. Do not be late."

"Father, what is going on? Why must we leave?"

"All will be explained in time, when we leave. But before we do depart, I too have a gift for you."

Gorion pulled out a small blue leather bound book from his robes and slid it across the table to Jeral. He then slid across a quill and small ink pot.

"Even a bard needs a spellbook Jeral, so it is time you had one of your own. This spell book is nearly impervious to harm, the ink will never run and the ink pot will never empty. Modetly I can say this is one of the finest spellbooks I have ever created."

Jeral was too overcome with emotion to speak so he could only nod his thanks as he stared at the spellbook and fought back tears. After a few minutes of silence Winthrop and Gorion left the table leaving a very confused Jeral in their wake.

Jeral felt rich with the 50 gold, added to the 25 he had saved over the years. He felt rich but quickly spent most of it. Even buying at a heavy discount from Wintrop his equipment was costly and he could not afford the long bow and chain mail he dearly wanted. Jeral purchased leather armor, a new buckler, a long sword, 10 small throwing knives in a bandolier, three daggers, basic camping gear and some rations. After that the handful of coins that remained seems inadequate for whatever the future would hold.

Jeral walked into his sparkly furnished room in the upper floor of the library and took stock of his meager possessions. He stripped to the skin and using a wet rag and bucket of water quickly washed up. "Might be a while until I can do this again," he mused. Once he was clean he dried off and took the time to admire himself in the mirror. His eyes gazed back at his reflection, they were clear and blue, ice blue with an intensity that caused some to flinch away from his gaze. He had a scar over his left eye, the result of a nasty sword blow while training with the watchers. He wore his dark hair long to hide the scar. For the millionth time he sighed when he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was a bigger than average man at a shade under six feet, but was taut and lean. He flexed his muscles in front of the mirror one last time and turned to his wardrobe.

He had a large number of outfits in his wardrobe. There was his outfit from his time as a trainee in the watchers, his monk trainee robes, his wizard robes and some simple breeches that he liked to wear around his room and when not studying. He put on a pair of dark grey breeches, high soft black boots, and a sky blue silk shirt. The armor went atop the clothes with the bandolier of throwing knives atop the armor. He fastened his sword belt and placed two daggers into his boots and a third onto his belt. Over his shoulders he fastened the reversable hooded cloak that was a gift from Winthrop years ago. One side was a deep black while the other was a mix of brown and green strips of fabric that was well sealed against the elements. Throwing his rations, flint and tinder, spare clothes and bedroll into a sack Jeral was ready to go. His zink was lovingly tucked in a small carrying case slung across his back that also carried his spell book. With his few remaining coins in a small purse strung around his next and tucked into his shirt Jeral left his room wondering is he was ever to return.

Jeral saw Gorion waiting on the front steps of the library. He really wanted to take one last stroll around Candlekeep but did not want to keep his father waiting. On his way to see Gorion Imoen came skipping up to say hi. Imoen was also human and of a similar age to Jeral. A little more that five feet tall she was short and had started to blossom into a very attractive young woman. Imoen had grown up with Jeral and was as close to him as any sibling. Over the years they had studied together, trained together and gotten in trouble together. He wanted to tell her everything that was happening but realized that he did not have the time. A quick hug that startled both Imoen and Jeral with its intensity was their wordless goodbye. Imoen watched him walk away as he headed towards the great library of Candlekeep. She waved and said, "See you soon." Sadly, Jeral doubted he would ever see Imoen again.

Gorion was waiting patiently at the library doors. He had a heavy dark cloak over his sky blue mage robes and a gnarled staff that doubled as a walking stick. Without a second look Gorion headed straight for the gate of Candlekeep. Jeral could not resist one last look at his home, the only home he had ever known, before turning and hurrying after Gorion. For some reason his heart was heavy as he knew Candlekeep would never be his home again.


	2. Chapter 2: Orphaned Again

Disappointment Chapter 2: Orphaned Again: Day 1

Once his feet touched the grass outside of Candlekeep Jeral could not help but smile. Even the sound of the gates of Candlekeep slamming shut behind him could not cause his smile to fade. For years, he had dreamed about walking freely beyond the walls of his fortress home and now he finally was doing exactly that! Jeral walked along in a blissful daze until he heard Gorion speak.

"Child, if we are ever separated, head for the Friendly Arm Inn to the North. There you will meet Khalid and Jaheira; they are old friends of mine and will aid you as best they can. There is no time for questions now, I will answer each and every one of your inquiries when there is time. If we walk all night we should be at the Inn by breakfast. They have excellent pancakes, I highly recommend them. They are particularly good with the berry preserve. It is a specialty of the Inn."

They continued on in silence and walked east into the growing darkness. Jeral repeatedly tried to engage in Gorion in conversation but Gorion repeatedly rebuffed his attempts. Gorion moved briskly, taking long sure strides into the night. Despite his age he showed no signs of fatigue and clearly was familiar with nighttime navigation in the woods. Jeral managed to keep up easily. Gorion had always stressed the need for physical fitness, both for him and Imoen. His life had been filled with physical exercise that sometimes was almost as challenging as his military studies. And worse than both were the piano, dance and singing lessons, Jeral had hated those singing lessons with a passion. Despite his best efforts he had never been able to sing at all. Despite his lack of singing ability, Gorion was insistent that he had a thorough and well rounded education. "A well educated mind and a good heart will always be your greatest weapons, Jeral." Gorion said that each and every time Jeral complained about his studies over the years.

After a few hours Gorion stopped walking and gripped his staff firmly in both hands. His body tensed as he looked into the darkness. "Make ready child, for we are in ambush." Jeral could not see anything, but trusting his father he drew his long sword and prepared for combat. The pair stood at the western edge of a small clearing in the woods. Gorion muttered a few words and bright mage light illuminated the area. Approximately 40 feet away stood four figures. Two were large, hideously ugly creatures clad in layers of furs and wielding massive spiked clubs. From his studies Jeral instantly recognized them as Ogres. The third figure was a lithe, attractive, dark skinned woman in form fitting plate mail and holding a mace and small shield. The fourth figure was a mountain of a man, probably six and a half feet tall, almost as broad as the ogres and adorned in black plate mail with long metal spikes protruding from various locations on the armor and helmet. He wielded a massive two handed sword that gleamed evilly in the magical light. The heavily armored warrior had the symbol for Baahl, the former God of death, on the chest of his armor. Both the eyes on the symbol of Baahl and of the armored man glowed with a golden intensity. If all that was not bizarre enough there was the final fact that Jeral felt like he knew the armored man. Some small voice in his head told him that this man was part of his destiny.

The armored man spoke, his voice deep and clear: "You are very perceptive for an old man. Hand over your ward and you will not be harmed. Crawl back to that castle of yours and live out your remaining days. You are of no interest to me."

"I would be a fool to trust you. The child stays with me. If you turn away now I will spare your lives." Gorion had thrown back his travel cloak and his mage robes fairly crackled with magical energy. With a flick of his wrist a blue haze enveloped both Jeral and Gorion as the wizard cast protective spells on both of them.

With a start Jeral realized that the massive warrior across the clearing was assuredly the "great warrior" of Gorion's visions. Gorion has misunderstood the seer's vision. This man, and now Jeral was to play a major role in Gorion's life. A sense of dread settled over Jeral. That major role assuredly meant that Gorion would die this night. Jeral realized that his father was already dead, and everyone in the clearing knew it.

As if on some preplanned signal the four sprang into action. The Ogres lumbered directly for Gorion and their roars were terrifying to hear. The armored man calmly walked towards Gorion following behind the Ogres. The woman stood there and made eye contact with Jeral. At that point he saw a flash in the woman's hands and knew it was coming for him. He knew enough magic to recognize an acid arrow spell when it was targeted at him. He quickly went into a roll and then dove behind a tree. Right before he reached the safety of the tree he felt a searing pain in his shoulder. He had been hit. The spell has managed to pierce Gorion's magical protections struck him a glancing blow. Only his considerable dexterity and Gorion's protective spells spared him from more sesious damage. The blood spurted from his left shoulder as he dropped his sword and worked to staunch the flow with his right hand. From his vantage point behind the tree he saw Gorion slam his staff into the ground. A lighting bolt leapt from the staff and burned into the chest of one of the Ogres, is then bounced to the chest of the second one and then disappeared into the darkness on the woods. "_I just saw a chain lightning spell_," Jeral thought as he watched in wonder at Gorion's magical prowess. Both Ogres fell to the ground dead with large smoking holes in their chests.

Gorion looked directly at Jeral, "Run child, you know what you must do." Gorion's face was hard but softened when he looked at his adoptive son before turning back to face his attackers. The large armored man had closed with Gorion. Gorion quickly uttered a few words and six copies of the elderly mage appeared at his sides. He then launched spell after spell at the armored man. His spells seemed to have little effect on the giant warrior. The warrior appeared impervious to all magical effects. It was clearly only a matter of time before Gorion fell. Gorion continued to lash out with spell after spell and the armored man barely noticed any of them as he steadily hacked through Gorion's mirror images. Jeral stood transfixed with terror. He could not abandon Gorion but what could he do? The woman slowly moved towards Jeral, her mace held at the ready. Jeral had spent enough time around fighters in Candlekeep to recognize that this woman was very dangerous and that he was no match for her. The image of her standing over his bloody and battered body flashed into his head. Gorion turned away from his opponent and launched a spell at the woman. She screamed and collapsed to the ground. Jerad did not know if she was alive or dead but prayed that Gorion had killed her.

"I will not say it again child, RUN!" Just as Gorion had shouted the last word the large man's sword buried itself in Gorion's unprotected chest. With a gurgled sigh Gorion slowly fell to the ground as the armored man watched Gorion slowly slide off his sword leaving a trail of blood dripping off the blade.

"NO!" Jeral screamed and jumped from behind the tree, he knew he was no match for this mighty warrior but he had to do something. He hurled one throwing knife and then a second at the armored man. He just stood there as the knives bounced harmlessly off the large warrior's armor.

"Come here boy. It will be over quickly. I promise. I have done this many times." The man advanced on Jeral with his bloody sword held low to his side. Jeral reached into one of his belt pouches and pulled out a handful of caltrops. He flung them on the ground in front of his attacker. The large man lumbered forward and suddenly stopped and howeled in pain as he hopped on one leg. He had stepped right on one of the caltrops and it had punched through the thinly armored boot and buried deep into his foot. Roaring in pain the dark warrior dropped his sword and hopped on one leg as he clumsily tried to take the barb of metal out of his foot.

Jeral picked up his sword and started to advance on the warrior. He had not made it three steps when he realized that the large man was just acting helpless to draw Jeral in close. Realizing he had no chance in combat against the plate clad warrior Jeral turned to flee. Jeral sprinted into the darkness to the South as fast as his legs would carry him. The tears were streaming down his face as he ran.

As Gorion lay on the ground knowing he had mere seconds to live, his final thoughts were ones of intense pride over the fact that Jeral had the presence of mind to lay down caltrops in the face of an advancing killer. "I love you son, maybe you will be a great and powerful bard after all." With those last words, and a smile on his face, Gorion of Candlekeep died.

The loss of Gorion replayed itself in Jeral's mind as he ran. As the miles passed he slowed to a jog and eventually, to a walk. The loss of his father had been replaced by fear for his own life. However, as dawn approached that fear was replaced by anger and a thirst for revenge. Someday, somehow, Jeral would see that large man die at his own hand. Gorion would be avenged. But first Jeral knew he needed to gain skill and experience. In addition he would need powerful allies to help him gain his revenge. It would take time but Jeral knew it would happen.

After a few hours Jeral realized he needed to find a place to sleep for the night. He climbed up into a nearby tree, wedged himself into the crook of the branch of the tree as best he could and settled down for a few hours of fitfull sleep. It was a long time until he finally could put the vision of Gorion impaled on a sword from his head.


	3. Chapter 3: A New Day

Chapter 3: A New Day: Day 2

Jeral awoke to the sounds of birds singing and sunlight streaming into his eyes. His shoulder throbbed from his wound and his back and neck felt even worse from spending the night in a tree. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked around. To his chagrin and embarassment he realized he was sleeping in a tree not a stone's throw from the Coastal Way. That was the road that leads to and from Candlekeep. Gorion had wanted to avoid the road last night and had set off cross country saying it would be safer. _Guess he was wrong about that_, Jeral mused.

Jeral heard a voice coming down the road and froze. Had the armored man and the warrior woman found him? Would he die today, treed like a squirrel? The voice started singing a bawdy drinking song. Instantly Jeral realized that is was Imoen singing a song she had picked up while tending bar for Winthrop. Unlike Jeral Imoen had an incredible singing voice and today she was in excellent form. She was singing and skipping along the road. As she came into view Jeral could tell that she was planning on staying away from Candlekeep for some time. She had on traveling clothes and was carrying a short bow. She stopped walking and stepped off the road a ways. She clearly had a rock or something in her shoe and wanted to remove it. Imoen had never embraced sensible footwear despite her chosen vocation and continued the trend today. She was wearing thigh high red boots with a heel. She always thought they made her look older while Jeral teased that they made her walk funny. She had selected the very tree Jeral was in to lean against as she took off her boot.

Smiling, Jeral planned to drop down from the tree and scare her_. I can hop out of this tree and land like a cat._ Unfortunately. Jeral forgot to consider the effects of his wound, fatigue and stiffness from spending the night in a tree. He rolled off the limb, realized that he had no control over his stiff arms and legs, and promptly fell onto the ground, landing heavily like a sack of potatoes.

"Ooof"

"Jeral is that you?"

"Yes it's me, what are you doing out here Imoen?"

"Looking for you O graceful and mighty warrior."

As Jeral painfully hauled himself to his feet Imoen gasped when she saw his shoulder."

"What happened to your shoulder? Where is Gorion? What is going on?"

Jeral took a deep breath and long pause before he replied.

"Dead."

"What? Gorion is dead? Impossible? Who did this? We need to go back to Candlekeep and tell the Watchers. They will help you, they have to help you."

"Slow down Im. One thing at a time. Gorion is dead. I watched him die protecting me from some huge armored killer and his friends. As for the Watchers they may or may not be able to help. I am sure the man who is after me is watching Candlekeep. We would never get back there alive. And even if we did get back there we have no valuable tome to gain entry. You know the rules of Candlekeep. I am on my own."

"Hardly brother. I am here and I am not going anywhere. I am not scared of any big ole killer." With that she hugged him fiercely and he felt a wave of emotions come over him. He felt safety, love, and relief, and even shame for running away. As they continued the hug he experienced a new sensation as well, as he felt her firm breasts press up against his chest. He abruptly broke the hug and stared awkwardly at the ground.

"Thanks, I needed that. We need to go bury Gorion. Follow me." They walked in silence. It took them almost four hours to walk back to the scene of the battle. Jeral was impressed that he was able to run and cover so many miles so quickly. _I guess all that training paid off in at least one way. I can run away with the best of them._

By early afternoon they had reached the site of the battle. The ogres lay where they had been killed, as did Gorion. Dead he looked older and smaller than he had in life. Jeral wondered not for the first time how old Gorion really was. Imoen stifled back a sob, "I can't believe he is dead. Isn't there anything we can do?"

"I don't think so. All we can do it take anything useful and then bury the body.

Jeral stripped to the waist, took a dagger and started digging. He refused Imoen's offer of assistance saying that he needed to do this himself. He also consistently refused to drink one of the few potions of healing she had "pilfered" from the priests before she left Candlekeep. He welcomed the pain and wanted to keep the scar as a memory of his last time together with Gorion. It took the rest of the day but by sunset there was a proper grave. Imoen busied herself by making a campfire and hunting for some dinner. By the time Jeral had dug the grave she had a nice pair of rabbits roasting on spits on the fire.

He had already emptied Gorion's pockets and cleaned him up as much as possible. He gently placed the body in the grave. Gorion carried some coins, a dagger, and a few letters that Jeral would read once there was time. Wrapped in his cloak with his staff over his chest he looked very peaceful and his gaping chest wound was not visible. As Jeral stood over the grave Imoen joined him. Standing side by side they wordlessly said their goodbyes. As Jeral knelt down to push the dirt back into the whole he raised his head to the sky and swore to any Gods that were listening that Gorion would be avenged. Imoen searched the corpses of the Ogres and found some gold coins and also located Jeral's two throwing knives. Shaking the coin purse Imoen smiled, "at least we have enough money for a tavern and food now. If we are careful these funds can last for some time."

The next morning Jeral and Imoen were off at first light. They were both sore and cold from a night spent on the ground. "If we are going to be spending much time out of doors in the future we will need the appropriate equipment."

"I could not agree more Im." Deciding that speed was more important than stealth they worked their way back to the roadway and headed east, away from Candlekeep. They both walked swiftly and Jeral struggled to match Imoen's grace and fluidity of movement. Despite her ridiculous footwear she was incredibly coordinated and made little noise.

After a half day of walking they had come across only two other travelers. One was an obese, chatty self proclaimed hermit named Kolssed. Following close on his heels was a cheerful, elderly wizard who seemed to know everything, yet said nothing, about Jeral's plight. Around yet another bend in the road they were startled out of their silence by an ear splitting screeching noise. Coming out of the woods towards them were two small, blue, ape looking creatures that had foam coming out of their large mouths.

"Gibberlings," said Imoen and Jeral in unison. As Imoen loosed her first arrow she remarked "Guess we both did learn a little something in our studies after all."

Jeral only grunted as he started throwing knives. The first one took an arrow in the throat and went down hard while the second one kept coming. Despite his best efforts Jeral continued to miss his target. Knife after knife went wide of its mark and the Gibberling bore down on him. With a start Jeral realized that the Gibberling was going to reach him. After the fifth throwing knife left his hand he drew his sword and prepared himself for close combat. His final knife whizzed by the Gibberling's head and sliced cleanly through its ear. If possible that only served to make it scream louder as it leapt at Jeral.

_I can't believe that this stupid little creature is going to be the end of me._

Jeral closed his eyes and swung wildly with his sword. He heard a scream and felt a warm splash as hot fluid spurted all over his face and torso. He felt something slam into his buckler and then heard a thud as the creature hit the ground next to him. Opening his eyes he could see little through the blood red haze.

"Are you hurt?"

"I don't think so. But I can't see!" Jeral could feel the panic start to well up inside.

"Tilt your head back," Jeral did so and felt a cool wave of water wash over his face and Imoen emptied a water skin into his eyes and face. After rubbing has hands across his face a few times Jeral could see again.

The Gibberling lay next to him, nearly decapitated. He looked down and saw that his sword was covered in blood and gore.

"Nice job bro, you nearly took his head clean off; thought you were a goner for sure."

Trying to look calm and collected, Jeral managed to say, "I meant to do that." It sounded feeble and insincere to his own ears but Imoen seemed to buy it. It was then that Jeral realized that training for combat was much different that actual combat. They both went about picking up as many of their arrows and knives as possible, not knowing when they might be able to restock.

Jeral could only find four of the knives he had thrown and a few of Imoen's arrows had shattered or could not be found.

"Nice shooting sis, if it weren't for you we would have been in real trouble."

Imoen's face lit up, she kissed Jeral on the cheek and started humming happily as they walked along.


	4. Chapter 4: Strange Encounters

Chapter 4: Strange Encounters Day: 3

It was late afternoon and they were thinking of finding a place to stop for the night when they heard voices from up ahead.

"What should we do Jeral?"

"Well it could be nothing Im, let us just keep walking and be ready for anything."

Displaying a calm he did not feel Jeral tried to affect a casual attitude as they walked towards the voices on the road ahead.

"…and so Monty that is how one can use a human skull as a soup bowl. The human body can be so wondrously useful, if only you use all of it."

"Remind me never to let you to the cooking, wizard."

"Oh Monty, don't be dense, I am a wonderful cook. Why my leg of pilgrim is simply to die for." With that the speaker broke out into a series of near hysterical cackles and giggles.

Jeral and Imoen both stopped in their tracks. They could not help and stare at the bizarre picture in front of them. There was a Halfling, barely three feet tall, armored in studded leather armor and carrying a serrated short sword. He had none of the friendly features normally associated with his kind and his face carried a scowl on its heavily scarred surface. As Jeral moved his eyes up to the taller individual he realized with a start that the small one was the normal and less threatening looking of the two. The other man was clearly human, a mage of some sort, and also assuredly insane. He was half a head taller than Jeral, rail thin and covered in tattoos with an unruly mop of wavy red hair atop his head. His eyes bulged in their sockets and seemed to move quite independently of one another. Jeral took in the scalps on the man's belt and his bone dagger and muttered, "Necromancer, evil magic," under his breath.

The two finally noticed Jeral and Imoen.

Look Monty, fellow travelers on this fair road." "A pair of children wandering the wilderness. Surely you must be none too bright to be wandering these roads."

"Ha. They look like a couple of lost little lambs to me."

"Hail travelers, I am Xzar and this is my trusty steed Montaron."

"I not be your steed you brain dead ninny."

"Shush Monty. As I was saying, may we be of any assistance to fellow travelers? You look like you have come into some trouble."  
>Jeral realized that he looked like death. His armor was torn at the shoulder showing a bloody wound from a few days earlier and the front of his torso was covered in Gibberling blood.<p>

"Thank you but we are more than capable of managing on our own."

The Halfling snorted in disgust and Xzar just giggled.

Jeral started to slowly walk towards the two with his hands at his side and a neutral expression on his face. Imoen hung back a few paces clearly unsettled by the two strangers.

Jeral walked up to the two.

"Are you sure we cannot be assistance?"

"Thank you for the offer but we are able to manage on our own."

Xzar walked right up to Jeral. He leaned down and sniffed Jeral. The then licked the side of his face. It took all of his willpower not to deck the skinny wizard. If he lashed out it would certainly result in a fight, a fight he suspected that he and Imoen would lose.

"MMMMMMMM, fresh Gibberling blood. Very distinctive and quite tasty. Thank you for sharing, very kind."

Slowly edging around the wizard Jeral wished the two travelers well and slowly started backing away from them. Imoen followed right behind him. The two parties watched each other in silence until Jeral and Imoen were out of sight.

"EWWWWWWW, how did you stand that?"

"It wasn't easy, those two really creeped me out but I thought that was a fight we could not win."

"Me too."  
>I think we had best put some distance between us and them just in case.<p>

"Agreed, I would walk all night to keep away from them."

The two kept up a brisk pace well into the night.


	5. Chapter 5: Unfriendly Reception

Chapter 5: Unfriendly Reception at the Friendly Arm Inn: Day 3

After walking for what seemed like forever the two finally came to the Friendly Arm Inn. There could not be a more misnamed spot in all of Faerun. With a name like that Jeral expected a small inn nestled in a valley near a stream or something. This "inn" was in fact a small fortress surrounded by a moat with twenty-foot high walls. A central keep rose well over 60 feet into the air. The drawbridge across the moat was raised and armored men could be seen patrolling the walls by torchlight. However the sign at the gate read "Friendly Arm Inn. All are welcome," in common, elven, dwarven and a few languages that Jeral could not even recognize. He saw a pull cord next to the sign and pulled it. A bell rang from somewhere inside the fortress. Jeral followed the cord upwards and saw that it ended in thin air some 25 feet above their heads.

Imoen merely yawned and said she wanted to go to bed.

After a few minutes the drawbridge lowered and a trio of armored men walked across the drawbridge. They were all clad in studded leather tunics and carried shields and long swords. The lead soldier addressed them formally, "Welcome strangers, to the Friendly Arm Inn. I trust we will have no problem with the two of you during your visit."

Jeral nodded politely. "There will be no problems caused by us sir. We are two weary travelers in search of a warm fire, a bath, good food and a clean bed."

"Well then the Friendly Arm Inn in the place for you, enjoy your stay." With that final word Jeral and Imoen walked across the drawbridge and under the raised portcullis into the Friendly Arm Inn. The senior soldier directed the other two to escort Jeral and Imoen to the Inn. As the four walked towards the inn Imoen started smiling and chatting with the two soldiers. Jeral could only roll his eyes as he listed to Imoen say how much she admired brave strong fighting men. She also went out of her way to repeatedly say that Jeral was her brother. The two soldiers smiled as they chatted with Imoen.

They walked through the darkened courtyard towards the steps up into the central keep. At this hour of the night there was no one about save the occasional soldier on his patrol. Even the animals in the barn were quiet and probably asleep. They reached the base of the stairs to the Inn and stopped dead in their tracks. At the top of the long flight of stairs was a man in a mage robe wearing a heavy dark cloak leaning against the door to the inn. At the sight of the two companions he quickly stood up straight and started walking quickly down the stairs. Even in the dim torchlight the siblings could see the gleam in his eyes.

"Think this is good?" Imoen asked hopefully.

"When is it good to have someone wait up all night for you?" Jeral replied acidly. "This is not Winthrop or Gorion waiting up for us. Make ready for trouble." Imoen started rummaging through her pouches for something while Jeral calmly placed his hand on his sword pommel.

The man clearly could see their actions and stopped halfway down the stairs and started speaking.

"Would you happen to be Jeral of Candlekeep?"

"Nope. Never heard of him. I am Erving and this is my cousin Eunice. We are just two weary travelers from Baldur's Gate."

"I think not. In fact, you resemble the one I am to meet. Yes I am quite sure, you are Jeral of Candlekeep."

"And what if I am?"

"I had thought that would be obvious. What type of man waits for someone in the dark of night? One with killing on his mind, for you see, Jeral of Candlekeep must die." What that ominous statement hanging in the air the stranger quickly cast a spell and 4 images of himself stood where only one was before. Jeral charged the mage while Imoen blasted away with a wand she had procured from one of her belt pouches. Jeral was dimly aware of the sound of guards shouting and running towards the confrontation. Imoen's magical missiles had dispelled two of the images and Jeral had dispelled the third with a sword strike. Before either of the siblings could strike the man he cast another spell. Imoen dropped her wand and took off screaming like she was being chased by a demon. Jeral was gripped by a terror so overwhelming that he merely collapsed to the ground where he stood. He curled up in a little ball and whimpered in terror. The man on the stairs pulled a serrated knife from his belt and quickly made his way down the stairs. Looking around he seemed to be measuring the distance from the closing guards and looking for ways to make his escape. In a blindly terrified spasm of fear Jeral's leg shot out and struck the wizard in the shin. The serrated knife slid out of his grasp as he fell backwards onto the steps while wind milling his arms frantically to retain his balance. He hit the stairs and his head snapped back, cracking into a stone step with a sickening thud.

Jeral closed his eyes for a second and forced his mind to focus inwards. _Focus on living, control the fear, you need to live to catch Gorion's killer._ That banished the fear from his mind. He reached out for the wand Imoen had discarded. Quickly determining it was a wand of magic missiles he aimed it at the prone figure and launched missile after missile into the assassin until he was little more than a lump of charred flesh on the stairs. He only stopped because the wand had broken in half as the last of the magic discharged. The guards finally arrived and Jeral was roughly dragged to his feet. Two guards held his arms tightly to his sides while a third guard stood in front of him and accused him of murdering the man. Jeral was starting to get concerned until he heard Imoen's cheery voice. "Uh fellas you might want to read this." Imoen held up a rolled parchment. The guards hesitated; clearly none of them knew how to read. Without missing a beat Imoen read it aloud for all to hear.

"Bounty Notice. Tarnesh, Be it known to all those of evil intent that a bounty has been placed on the head of Jeral, the foster son of Gorion. Last seen in the vicinity of Candlekeep, this person is to be killed in quick order. Those returning with proof of the deed shall receive no less than two hundred coins of gold. As always, any that shall receive these plans to the forces of law shall join the target in their fate."

When she finished speaking she rolled it up and tossed it to the guard who seemed to be in charge.

"Feel free to verify its contents with someone you trust," Imoen said. "We are going to get a room and get a good night sleep." Jeral shook his arms free of the guards and started walking up the stairs. His mind was racing at the thought of sharing a room with Imoen although he hoped that did not show on his face. The two walked up the stairs and entered the inn. Not surprisingly the main common room was sparsely populated at this hour. A few dwarves were drinking and carousing at the bar and the bartender, a very wizened looking gnome, walked over to welcome Jeral and Imoen.

"Welcome to the Friendly Arm Inn. My name is Bently Mirrorshade and I am the proprietor here. I apologize for the nastiness outside. I run a peaceful place and you should be safe here."

Imoen thanked Bently by kissing him on his bald head. The elderly gnome blushed and gave them a discount on the remaining room he had. The two skipped the offer of a late supper and wearily climbed to the top floor of the Inn. There they entered a luxurious room with a large fluffy bed and two chairs by a large fireplace. Jeral went over to the fireplace. It was already piled high with wood and kindling. Jeral leaned in and lit the fire and it quickly roared to life. The warmth and light was welcome to the companions. Jeral walked down the hall to the male bath chamber. Once there he quickly stripped down and vigorously scrubbed clean in a basin of luke warm water. There were large bathtubs but they were clearly not in operation at such a late hour. Once he was reasonably clean Jeral put on a pair of clean breeches and headed back to their room. By the time he got there Imoen was already buried under the covers and snoring softly. Her clothes were strewn all over the room, as was her traveling gear.

"You always were a mess little sister." Jeral smiled to himself as he spent a few minutes tidying up the room and folding her clothes. Once the room was neat again Jeral slid into bed next to Imoen. She was curled up in a ball and wearing her favorite pale pink nightshirt. The fire served to give Jeral a good view of the lovely shape of Imoen under her sheer shirt. Forcing some rather impure thoughts out of his mind Jeral slid into bed, rolled away from Imoen and shut his eyes. Sleep was a while in coming.


	6. Chapter 6: New Old Friends

Chapter 6: New Old Friends: Day 4

Jeral woke to the sunlight streaming into his room. He stretched and yawned and noticed that Imoen was nowhere to be found. Her nightshirt was on the floor so Jeral deduced that she had gotten dressed. He got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to wash up. He shaved, as much for the practice as for the need, took a long hot bath in a basin and then put on his remaining set of clothes, a pair of green breeches and a dark blue tunic, and headed downstairs. Leery from the night before, Jeral slipped knives into each boot before he headed downstairs carrying his spellbook case. He left his armor, traveling gear, sword belt and bandolier of knives over the chair in the room.

Jeral heard the sounds of muted conversations and eating going on below. As he entered the common room he saw Imoen having an animated conversation with two half elves, one male and one female. The three rose from the table as Jeral arrived.

"Khalid and Jaheira I presume?"

Clearly taken aback that they did not get the first word in the two half elves paused before they responded.

"Yes we are, Jeral. I am Khalid, and this is my wife Jaheira, we have heard of Gorion's passing and mourn for your loss. He was a dear f-f-f-friend." Khalid was large for a half elf at almost 6 feet in height and broad enough to pass for a thin human. He was in a soft brown tunic and green breeches and wore a long sword at his hip. They shook hands and Jeral realized he liked Khalid and instinctively trusted the man. Jaheira stepped in front of her husband put her hands on her hips and slowly eyed Jeral top to bottom. She was shorter than her husband and had the thinner elvish build. Jeral returned the favor and scanned Jaheira with what he hoped looked like a critical eye. She was extremely attractive, but her face had a hardness to it that detracted from her beauty. She carried a worn wooden staff and wore green breeches and and a tunic that showed signs of much wear. Her long brown hair reached the middle of her back. She was clearly an experienced warrior, and looked far more dangerous than her husband.

"Stop gawking child, it does not become you. If you are to travel with us you need to look less helpless than a lonely lost babe in the wilderness. And get a haircut for only women should have hair that touches their shoulders." Jeral had started to flinch backwards from the verbal barrage. The last comment crossed the line and angered him. He found himself leaning forward until his face was almost touching Jaheira's. In a low voice he growled, "Listen to me woman, I am my own man, not just Gorion's son. I loved him deeply, and love him still, but he could not dictate my attire and neither shall you. Imoen and I have not discussed our travel plans with one another yet but if we do decide to travel with you, and your unfortunate husband, then we shall do so on our own terms."

When he finished speaking he watched Jaheira's face and ears redden and he feared that he had gone too far. Khalid just chuckled quietly at Jeral's cheek. In an effort to lighten the mood, and avoid getting himself thrashed by an enraged warrior, Jeral took a step back, smiled and said that a haircut might not be a bad idea. Smiling he held his hand out to Jaheira. Grumbling she shook his hand. The handshake was like the woman, firm, callused and very strong. So strong it took all Jeral's strength and will not to flinch before she broke the handshake.

"There is some food remaining child, I suggest you eat before we head to Nashkel."

"A fine suggestion, woman." Jeral sat down and enjoyed his breakfast.

Imoen suggested that they stay at the Inn an extra day to rest and also because she had found a woman that wanted some family jewelry returned. Evidently a band of marauding hobgoblins had captured it and they had set up camp just out of sight of the northern wall of the inn. After a good meal the 4 went to their respective rooms to equip themselves for the limited foray into the woods.

They met outside the stables next to the portcullis that served as the exit from the fortress. Khalid wore a set of well made chain mail armor and carried a shield. He wore an open-faced helmet atop his head. Jaheira was in a set of worn leather armor and wore a thin metal band around her head. Her hands rested on a worn wooden staff. Imoen had on her usual gear. Jeral carried a shoulder bag with 10 additional throwing knives that he had purchased on his way out the door. He badly wanted to purchase a long bow but still lacked the funds.

They followed the road that worked around the west side of the inn before it turned north. The conversations between them were brief and limited. Jeral and Imoen were both nervous. Never before had they gone out for a walk expecting to find trouble, let alone looking for trouble. They had rarely been allowed outside the high walls of Candlekeep and now they were living on the road. In addition neither of them had ever seen, let along fought against a hobgoblin. The tales they had heard as children about the flesh eating monsters were terrible to hear. They had walked around the north side of the inn when Jaheira led them off the path and into the woods.

"Make ready, for I sense that there are unnatural creatures nearby." Jeral nodded at Jaheira and drew his sword while Imoen knocked an arrow in her short bow. Up ahead through the trees Jeral could see movement, LOTS of movement. A grunt followed by the sound of running figures told everyone that they had been noticed.

Jaheira and Khalid stepped in front of Jeral and Imoen. Khalid drew his sword and tightened his grip on his shield. It looked like almost a dozen hobgoblins were charging the party. They were all in fragments of various types of armor and wearing helms and wielding swords of various sizes and shapes. Jaheira uttered arcane words of power and the very grasses and shrubs on the forest floor seemed to come alive and worked to hinder the advance of the creatures. With a start Jeral and Imoen realized that Jaheira was a druid as well as a fighter. Most of the creatures were entangled in the foliage, but the three in the lead made it through before they could be entangled. Two started battling with Khalid while the other leapt at Jaheira; she just managed to ready her staff and was now fiercely battling her attacker. Jeral directed Imoen to shoot at the trapped hobgoblins while he slid to the side to support Khalid.

Khalid had killed one hobgoblin and then was knocked to his knee by a sword blow to the side from the second one. Jaheira saw her husband in danger but could not disengage with her opponent. Jeral stepped in and stabbed at the creature. Much to his chagrin Jeral's blow missed to the creature's side. The hobgoblin raised his sword high preparing to deal Khalid a killing blow. Jeral took a backhanded swing and sliced the creature's sword hand off neatly. Howling in pain it turned on Jeral. Seizing the advantage Khalid rose to his feet and ran his sword into the hobgoblin's side, killing it. As it fell to the ground Jaheira finally killed her opponent with a staff strike to the neck, with a crack the hobgoblin fell down dead. Jaheira walked over to her husband, checked his wounds, and announced them "too minor to heal." She then kissed him on the cheek and turned to face the remaining creatures after throwing a brief nod of thanks in Jeral's direction.

Imoen had killed three of the hobgoblins with her arrows. Imoen and Jeral each killed one more before the spell wore off. The final four hobgoblins, finally free of the vines and grasses attacked with a roar. Two headed for Jaheira, one for Khalid and one directly for Jeral. Jeral dropped his sword and began throwing knives. The first few whizzed by the hobgoblin, one to each side. The next three stuck in his armor but if they penetrated they clearly did little damage. Jeral threw the next knife and watched with a thrill as it buried itself into the creature's left eye socket. It stopped in its tracks and fell over dead. Jeral was elated and moved forward to retain what would now be his lucky knife when he saw a glint of steel to his side and felt a blinding pain in his side. Overwhelmed with pain Jeral fell to the ground. His hands instinctively grabbed at his right side and came away bloody. He knew he was hurt badly and was amazed at the pain. _"This really hurts!" he thought. _His vision started getting fuzzy as he was roughly rolled onto his back.

Strong hands stripped off his armor and ripped his shirt open. Jeral wondered if the remaining hobgoblins were planning to eat him when a cool rush entered his body. He could feel the pain leave his body and felt his skin and muscles knitting back together. He opened his eyes and saw Jaheira slowly standing up. She looked tired and leaned on her husband for support. As Jeral slowly got to his feet he looked at the remains of his shirt. Smiling he said, "My thanks for saving my life, but I did like the shirt even if you did not." Snorting something about "ignorant child" under her breath Jaheira moved off to search the corpses. He did catch the faintest trace of a smile on her face before she turned away. After about 10 minutes the party had a nice pile of salvaged gear. In addition to the missing family heirloom ring they had recovered additional gems, a few hundred in gold and seven sets of studded armor suitable for sale as well as a few swords. The piled the armor and weapons and armor behind a tree close to the road. The four then continued exploring to the north.

"_He has got to be a paladin, cannot be anything else. Freshly scrubbed face, polished armor, symbol of Helm. He looks like something out of the history books the monks required that we studied back in Candlekeep,"_ Jeral mused.

The man saw the four emerge from the woods. Drawing his sword he called out, "Halt! Be you friend or foe?"

"That depends, who are you?" Jeral shot back.

"I am Ajantis, Squire Paladin Sir Keldorn Firecam of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart and servant of Helm. I have come down from the city of Waterdeep to fight against the Bandit menace."

"Well we are no bandits so we are not a foe."

"Well are you a friend then?" Ajantis was clearly a bit flustered from the exchange. Jaheira stepped forward.

"We are heading to Nashkel to resolve some disturbances there. Will you join us?"

Smiling broadly, the paladin quickly accepted and joined with the others. Imoen just whistled in appreciation and muttered "so pretty" as Ajantis introduced himself to her.

The group picked up the pile of armor and weapons and returned to the Inn. When they arrived back at the Inn Imoen and Jaheira went to return the lost item while Khalid and Jeral went to sell the equipment to Bentley. After some fierce haggling they received 180 gold for the lot. As the money changed hands Bentley muttered about his generous nature and how it would be the death of him. Khalid smiled and said "we c-c-c-c-could have gotten more money if that armor all did not smell of hobgoblin." Jeral divided the gold into 4 equal amounts and distributed it to the group. Jeral purchased some leather armor for Imoen, as well as studded leathers and two sets of traveling clothes for himself. The clothes were black breeches and dark grey tunics of a soft yet durable fabric. When Imoen returned to the inn Jeral presented her with her gift. She was delighted with her new armor. After a hearty and leisurely dinner the five headed to their respective rooms since they wanted to be on the road at first light on the morning. They purchased a third room for Ajantis. Jeral asked for two wash tubs to be rolled into his room as well as a screen.

Imoen watched in silence as the wash tubs and the screen were rolled into the room and after the maids left she raised an eyebrow at Jeral. Feeling the heat rise in his cheeks, Jeral stammered, "it may be a while before either of us can take a proper bath again so I asked them to set this up. If the screen is not adequate I can wait downstairs until it is my turn." "This will be fine silly. It will be good to be clean since we have been out in the woods for a few days. Besides, we used to take baths together as kids."

"That was a long time ago; we have both grown up a lot since then."

"I know that, but you have always been like a big brother to me and you have always looked out for me. I never want that to change."

Jeral felt guilty at some of his thoughts from the night before and he quickly disrobed and slid into his bath. Quickly working to distract himself Jeral asked Imoen what she thought of the Paladin. "Like something out of the history books. Handsome warrior with a strong jaw and shining armor, I almost feel like a damsel in need or rescue." Jeral could only snort at the tought or Imoen needing rescue from anyone. Imoen loved the tub and soon the two of them were singing some rather bawdy drinking songs that they had learned from their days working in Winthrop's tavern. Once they were clean and very well pruned by the water they got out on their respective sides of the screen, dried off, put on their night clothes and slid into bed.

Much to his chagrin and delight Imoen snuggled up against Jeral and rested her head on his chest.

"We have been through so much recently; I need to feel safe tonight so please hold me."

Jeral nodded and gently stroked her hair as they both fell asleep.

Jeral awoke to the first rays of sunlight coming into the window. He realized that Imoen was still curled up against his side with her head on his chest. A slew of conflicting thoughts and emotions ran through his head. He realized that he needed to get out of bed. He started to slide away from her on the bed. This caused her to moan in her sleep and slide her body back next to his. Jeral slid away from her so energetically that he slid right off the bed, taking all the bedclothes with him. Imoen awoke with a start and began laughing when she saw Jeral in a mass of bedding on the floor.

"Bad dream?"

"Something like that sis." Without another word he hopped up, grabbed his clothes and left the room.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Beregost Bound Day 5

Jeral quickly dressed and packed up his remaining items into his sack and slung it over his shoulder. He headed downstairs to face another day on the road. He was pleased to note that he was the first one down to breakfast. He ordered eggs, meat, cheese and bread. He had just placed his order when Khalid and Jaheira came down the stairs. Jeral watched her slide a sharp glance at her husband; he unabashedly smiled at her in return. Clearly she had wanted to come down earlier, and from the look of his smile he had found an enjoyable way to delay the start of their day.

Deciding to tweak her a bit, Jeral stood, bowed formally, smiled and said, "So glad you could join me. Not too early for you is it?"

"No child, not too early at all. Jaheira replied.

"Good morning to you Jeral."

"And to you Khalid."

Smiling he looked at Jaheira and nodded, "Woman."

"Jeral, my name is Jaheira, NOT woman," she replied sharply. Khalid started to smile, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"My dear Jaheira, I could not agree more, your name is Jaheira, not woman. And for clarity's sake my name is Jeral, NOT child. I suggest we both do our best to remember that."

"Well played Jeral." Khalid clapped delightedly.

Jeral smiled and winked in Khalid's direction. Jaheira just grumbled and barked out her breakfast order to the serving wench. Imoen bounded down the stairs and helped herself to portions of Jeral's breakfast.

After breakfast they met Ajantis, who had completed his morning prayers and exercises. The group then purchased some bread and cheeses for their travels, and departed the Inn. They walked along the road heading southward. On their way southward they had a brief encounter with some Gibberlings that caused no damage. They also searched the remains of a half dozen merchant caravans that were clearly attacked and looted by bandits. They found no survivors and nothing of value in any of the wreckage. By late afternoon, they reached the town of Beregost unhindered. Where the Friendly Arm Inn was a fortress Beregost was an open, apparently undefended town. Jeral idly wondered what kept the town safe from bandits and other creatures.

A conversation with a helpful farmer on the edge of town served to give them the lay of the land. There was an armorer of some repute, a Temple to the east of town, a magical shop to the west of town, four inns of varying cost and quality and other sundry distractions. It was late in the afternoon so they decided to head for an inn. Heeding Jaheira's advice to be frugal they headed for the Red Sheaf Inn. It was supposed to be the cheapest place to stay in town although they were warned that the inn also has a rough clientele.

The Red Sheaf Inn was on the second floor of a building in noticeable disrepair. At the top of the stairs they pulled open a rickety wooden door and entered into the inn. The combined smells of smoke, sweat, ale and urine were almost overpowering. As their eyes were adjusting to the gloom they noticed a figure coming closer. Heading directly for them out of the smoke was a dwarven fighter. His barrel chest was clad in chainmail, while he wore a great horned helm and cared a small shield, and large double headed battle axe. His red beard was forked in bronze and tucked into his belt. He had a murderous glean in his eye as he approached the party. Khalid and Ajantis quickly stepped in front of the other three.

"I am here for the head of Jeral of Candlekeep. You other long limbs may keep your heads if you step aside although I not be sad if I get to kill that elven lass we well."

Jeral replied quickly.

"Good dwarf, I am not tall by the standards of my race but I feel safe to say that without a chair or a table for you to stand upon my head will be quite safe where it is."

"No one makes height jokes and lives!"

The dwarf let out a thunderous battle cry,

"BY DURLAG'S AXE, NOW YOU ALL DIE!" He charged right into Khalid and bowled him aside. Ajantis swung at the dwarf but his blow deflected off the attacker's shield. Jaheira swung her staff at the dwarf and stuck him in the head. With a loud "CRACK" her staff shattered into pieces upon the dwarven helm. The dwarf shook his head, spit out a bloody tooth and resumed his charge at Jeral. Imoen had stepped to the side and was shooting arrows as fast as she could. At such a close range she could not miss but most seemed to imbed in his shield, or seemed unable to pierce his dwarven chain mail.

Jeral stood at the entrance to the Inn with his hands on his sword hilt and appeared unconcerned about the charging dwarf. As the dwarf closed Jeral placed his right hand behind his back. Jaheira watched Jeral expecting a flung knife to halt the dwarven advance. Right before the dwarf could strike, Jeral stepped back out the door pivoting on his left foot Jeral grabbed the other side of the door with his right hand and swung around to the other side of the door. With a road the enraged dwarf ran right through the railing and fell onto the street below. As he lay their dazed on the ground a few well placed arrows and throwing knives quickly ended his life. Imoen walked down the stairs and quickly rifled the corpse. She came up with a purse of 100 gold and another bounty notice scroll.

"Same as the last one brother, except this one is named Karlat and now you are worth three hundred and fifty pieces of gold."

"Well that is flattering isn't it? I suspect if it keeps going up then I am doing something right."

The party decided that with the newfound wealth they could afford to stay in better accommodations, particularly when they saw the results of bargain shopping. They walked around the corner to the Burning Wizard Inn. A young foppish looking fellow asked them if they wanted a job on the morrow. Jeral quickly said sure and they arranged to meet after breakfast. As the party sat down over dinner Khalid asked Jeral why he taunted the dwarf. "You know they hate height jokes above almost all else."

"Khalid, of course I know they do. Gorion once taught me that to make one's opponent lose their calm while keeping yours can be half the battle. I also remembered the story of Niklos the Minotaur slayer. Niklos was a skilled warrior who used to get Minotaurs to charge him and at the last minute he would step to the side and then strike them from behind. He did this quite successfully for years until he came across a Minotaur who anticipated his maneuver."

"What happened then?" Khalid asked

"Well the minotaur faked an out of control charge and when Niklos sidestepped he also turned in anticipation of the Minotaur running past. The Minotaur merely adjusted direction and gored him in his lightly armored side. Thus endeth the tale of Niklos the Minotaur slayer. Hmmmm, I guess if one grows up in a library reading all the time something sticks on occasion. I guess I learned something from all those books after all. Frankly, the dwarf looked too tough for us so I tried to even the odds. I will not use the same trick too often less I end up like Niklos."

With a laugh the party enjoyed a hearty meal and then retired for the evening.

As Imoen went to bed Jeral stated that he was going downstairs for a drink. Sleepily she just nodded and went to sleep.

Jeral went looking for a courtesan. He had seen a few during the day and was sure he could find another. He went back to the Red Sheaf Inn and found what he was looking for. After some brief negotiations Jeral followed one upstairs. She was smiling and said "you're an easy one dearie, if that is all you want and I still get full price it is fine by me." Jeral returned to bed an hour later, poorer by seven gold pieces, but he slept much better that night.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: A Lady in Need? Day 6

The next morning they ate a quick breakfast and headed outside to meet their contact. He introduced himself as Garrick. He announced grandly that he was a bard of some renown in the employ of a great thespian. He was of average height, and not poorly built. He was clad in ornate crimson chainmail and carried a light crossbow and short sword. "So the job is a simple one. Just serve as her bodyguards til sundown and you are 300 gold richer. What could be easier?" Welcoming the chance at easy money they followed Garrick to meet his boss. Silke turned out to be a woman who looked like an over the hill courtesan trying to look younger. Her face was heavily made up and her mage robes were cut to show a lot of skin. She clutched a beautiful white quarterstaff that was clearly enchanted. She stated that she had been receiving death threats and she was to meet the criminals today. She wanted allies to strike them down. Jeral accepted her terms and settled down to wait.

"There they are, make ready you lot." Silke's words shattered everyone out of their relaxed posture. The three men walking down the street looked like harmless merchants. Nothing about them appeared to be a threat. One spoke "Silke, we are here as you instructed, what do you wish to discuss?"  
>The sweet voice was not replaced with a harsh cutting scream, "Kill them now!" Silke raged.<p>

"Hold on there lady, we are not killing anyone until we understand what is going on," Jeral cried.

Reddening Silke turned and faced Jeral. Spittle flying from her mouth she screamed, "Our deal is off! In any case you lot are probably too cowardly to be any good in a fight. I will deal with them myself, after I deal with you." With that she started chanting the words to a spell. Khalid and Ajantis drew their swords and charged while Imoen readied her bow and Jeral drew a throwing knife. Before any of the others could act Jaheira had closed with Silke and punched her, hard, in the face. Silke's nose broke with a loud crunch and blood spurted fourth from it. Silke screamed in pain and rage and struck Jaheira in the side with her staff. Jaheira grunted in pain and collapsed to the ground. "You broke my nose you mongrel dog." Silke raised her quarterstaff over her head to deliver a killing blow to Jaheira. Before she could complete the blow she was struck by an arrow to the chest, a throwing knife to the throat, and a long sword strike to the stomach. Dead where she stood her quarterstaff slid from her now lifeless hands and she crumpled to the ground. Khalid laid his bloody sword on the ground and knealt next to his wife. She was muttering a spell and soon had healed her own injured side.

The men thanked Jeral and company for sparing their lives, they said they were business partners of Silke and she had evidently tried to double cross them. The leader, a merchant named Faltis, handed the party a few potions in gratitude. Imoen looted Silke's corpse and came up with 500 in gold, a mage robe, and the clearly enchanted quarterstaff.

Smiling Imoen handed Jaheira the quarterstaff. "Bet this one will not break so easily." Jaheira smiled grimly and took a few practices swings with her new weapon. Apparently satisfied she nodded in acceptance.

Garrick had been standing off to the side silently. He sheepishly approached the party. "Guess she had it coming, what with her being really evil and nasty and all. I am not sure what to do now. I am in need of a job." The members all looked to one another for opinions. No one seemed to have anything to say about the young bard for good or for ill. Jeral was about to send him away when he saw that Imoen was staring at the bard and smiling shyly. _Guess sis thinks he is cute_, Jeral mused. Wanting his sister to be happy he extended a hand and said, "Welcome, let's see how you manage with us and make a final decision after a few days." With a start Jeral realized that he was not jealous about her possible feelings for Garrick in the least. Jeral introduced Garrick to the others.

"Well, given the excitement of this morning I think we had best relax for the remainder of the day and then head off for Nashkel tomorrow. Khalid, Ajantis and Garrick headed to the Burning Wizard Inn to rent three rooms for the evening. Jaheira and Imoen disappeared to do some shopping and snooping around. Jeral decided to visit the local smith and see about selling the mage robe. The smith determined that it was lightly enchanted to offer some protection against fire. Since Jeral knew no one in the party could wear it he decided that they could make some money and sell it. Jeral spent 30 minutes perusing the wares of the smithy. Flush from the funds from Silke and the sale of the mage robe he went on a bit of a shopping spree for his companions. For Jaheira he purchased a lightly enchanted sling, and 100 normal sling bullets. For himself he picked out a well made long bow with a quiver of 60 arrows, and for Imoen more arrows. Since Khalid and the paladin their front line fighters and already well equipped he got nothing for them. When he walked out the door, Taerom Fairuim gave him a hearty farewell.

He left the smith and brought his newly purchased items back to the Inn. At dinner that evening he presented all his companions with their share of the remaining funds and the equipment he had purchased. They were all delighted. Imoen was practically beaming and clearly had something to say. She quickly handed Jeral a wand. He recognized it as a lightning wand. This was something Imoen could not afford. "This is great Imoen; do I even want to know how you got it?" "Don't ask brother. Just do not visit the large estate to the North of town." Shaking his head and smiling Jeral marveled at the new toy. "I am sure I can put this to good use, thank you Imoen."

"My pleasure, I know you have not learned many spells and you cannot cast any of them while in armor so I thought this might be of assistance."  
>"Thank you sis, I will only use it where absolutely necessary." Jaheira started to inquire where Imoen had acquired the wand until Khalid suggested that the two of them retire for the evening. Shaking her head in frustration Jaheira followed Khalid upstairs. Ajantis excused himself and headed upstairs to polish his armor and pray to Helm.<p>

"Well it's just the three of us now," Garrick said.

Garrick ordered them a round of Ale. Jeral took a healthy swallow and started coughing and sputtering. The ale was thick and sour and burned going down. "What is this swill?" Jeral gasped. Laughing Garrick informed the others that this was a rare delicacy, ogre rotgut ale. Evidently a Flaming Fist patrol had defeated a small band of ogres and sold the recovered alcohol to the local taverns. "The bardish life requires one to be open to new experiences, else how can I ever hope to tell great tales without living them myself?" Imoen wrinkled up her face at her mug, "that may be true Garrick but I am getting some wine, you can have your Ogre brew." Jeral forced his mug down and it settled like a stone in his stomach.

Garrick was delicately sipping his and clearly was thinking that the drink was less romantic in the drinking than in the potential retelling. Imoen came back with a bottle of wine and 2 glasses. "Garrick can have my ale, let us drink wine." "Fine by me Imoen," Jeral replied. The two proceeded to tell funny tales of their childhood to Garrick and the more they drank the funnier and louder the stories became. Garrick entertained the entire bar with a few bawdy tunes that had the entire common room singing along and laughing at the off-color verses. At some point there was a second and then third bottle of wine. The evening was getting late so the three finally decided to wrap up and head off to bed.

They reached the second floor with only a few minor stumbles. Garrick was sharing a room with Ajantis while Imoen shared a room with Jeral across the hall. They said good night to one another and retired to their separate rooms. Jeral doffed his shirt and boots and collapsed on his bed. He tried to focus on a spot on the ceiling to keep the room from spinning. Garrick collapsed on the floor with a thud, completely missing the bed. Evidently the 2 ogre ales had been quite enough for him. His muffled snores could be heard across the hall almost immediately. Imoen went behind the changing screen and quickly put on her pink night-shirt. It was thin and stopped above the knee. Jeral tried not to stare but the alcohol made that effort doomed to failure.

A lump formed in his throat as he stared at her. Imoen had a tight figure with lean athletic lines. While noticeably shorter than Jeral she seemed much taller than him right at this point. She stepped out from behind the screen and swayed a little as she walked. Clearly the wine had hit her like it had Jeral. "Do you remember when we played healer and warrior as kids?" Smiling Jeral thought back to the many times they had played that game. In it one of them was always the wounded warrior and the other had to undress them and check over their body to see if they were ok. They played it on and off for a couple years until they both realized they were getting too old for such childish games. "Yes I remember."

"Wanna play now?"

Jeral could not speak. Finally his voice returned.

After stammering for a second he managed to croak, "No, that would not be right, go to bed."

Yet another night where sleep did not come easily.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Hangovers and More Day 7

Jeral awoke to the first rays of light. They served to awaken the pain that was in his head. Swearing off drink, not for the first time, Jeral struggled with the pain. With a start he realized that the hangover was the least of his concerns. Curled up next to him was Imoen. She had clearly climbed into bed with him after he passed out. _Thank heavens nothing happened. I love Imoen but she is my sister_, Jeral mused. He lay wishing for death as the hangover and the confusion from the night's prior events served to cause his head to throb and ache. After a few minutes Imoen began to stir. She rolled over to face him. Smiling she said good morning. After a few seconds her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to speak. Before she could say anything she rolled away from Jeral and proceeded to vomit off the side of the bed. Jeral held her hair out of the way as she continued to vomit. A small part of his mind managed to stay detached and was amazed at how much food the small girl had apparently eaten yesterday The variety of colors and consistencies was impressive as well "She must have visited every food vendor in town yesterday," Jeral mused.

Once Imoen was finished being sick she rolled onto her back and moaned in pain. "My head hurts," she moaned. Jeral hopped out of bed to clean up the mess and get Imoen some water from the pitcher on the table. As Jeral walked to the bed to bring Imoen the water she propped herself up on some pillows to drink from the glass. Jeral left Imoen to her suffering and unsteadily walked downstairs to the common room in search of a hangover cure.

Khalid and Jaheira were already at a table eating. Jeral sheepishly joined them. A glass of murky liquid was placed in front of him by the serving wench. With a knowing look she suggested that should be his breakfast. Nodding slightly, to reduce the pain, Jeral lifted the glass and drank the foul smelling, slimy concoction down in one long gulp. It took all his will to keep it down but it did reduce the pain in his head somewhat.

"Uh guys, I think we are going to need to stay in Beregost for another day."

"What? Why chi, er Jeral." Appreciating Jaheira's efforts at tact Jeral explained to her and Khalid that he Imoen and Garrick had all consumed more alcoholic beverages than they should have the night before. Muttering something about balance and children Jaheira and Khalid left the Inn to spend another day exploring Beregost. Jeral ordered two more hangover specials and headed upstairs, on the way he bumped into Ajantis and explained the situation. Shaking his head in disappointment the paladin departed to spend the day visiting the local temple. Jeral opened the door to Garrick's room and stuck his head in. Garrick's snores verified that he still lived, as did the spreading pool of drool by his mouth. Jeral placed a mug of the beverage on the table in the room and quietly backed out.

Returning to his room he knocked. He did not receive a reply so he knocked again. After a third knock a weak voice said come in. He entered the room to see Imoen on the floor in a ball, she had not yet gotten dressed. She kept moaning that her head was going to explode. He placed the drink on the table and picked her up off the floor with surprising ease. He sat down in a plush chair with her on his lap. He said nothing; he just stroked her hair and held her. Jeral eventually got her to drink the hangover cure and she forced it down in a few reluctant gulps. Once she finished the drink he put her back into bed and left to explore the town."

Day 8

The next morning the party met for a hearty breakfast. Jeral, Imoen and Garrick apologized for wasting a day and promised to be smarter in the future about what – and how much – they drank. That seemed to satisfy everyone, even Jaheira.

After breakfast they gathered their gear, to include bedrolls and field gear purchased by Khalid and Jaheira, and headed south. The party made good time on a clear spring day. Imoen skipped ahead chatting animatedly with Garrick. Evidently the stay in Beregost had given her exactly what she wanted and needed. Jeral was not sure how he felt about that but he was glad that she was happy. Garrick mentioned that he had heard from the town crier that there was a large reward for the head of a cleric named Bassilus. Everyone agreed that they would pursue the reward but only after they had visited Nashkel.

After walking for less than an hour they heard a large amount of movement in the trees off to the side of the road. Everyone slowed their pace and readied their ranged weapons. Imoen started to scout ahead but her presence was clearly detected because the movement in the woods stopped.  
>"Imoen, Garrick, fall back NOW!" Jeral yelled.<p>

Imoen looked back in confusion.

At that moment two large creatures burst from the trees to the side of the road. Jeral immediately recognized them as ogres. They were similar in size to the ones that had attacked him and Gorion only half a fortnight ago. Imoen and Garrick took off at a sprint back towards the group. Khalid and Jeral fired arrows while Jaheira's sling bullets joined in. Ajantis drew his sword and charged the ogres. The first ogre fell under a hail of missiles. The second one continued to close on Imoen and the group. Khalid dropped his bow and drew his sword; however he did not have time to remove his shield from his back. Jaheira grabbed her staff and the two half elves charged forward to support Ajantis against the ogre. They split a few feet apart and Imoen and Garrick went dashing between the gap between the two half elves.

The ogre collided violently with Ajantis and the Paladin was knocked to the ground. Jeral's arrows failed to find their target while Garrick stung the creature with a crossbow bolt to the shoulder. It bellowed in pain. Jaheira waded in and stung the monster with a blow to its ribs while Khalid stabbed with his long sword. With a roar it flailed its club at Jaheira. She managed to evade the force of the blow although one of the nails on the ogre's club sliced into her shoulder. Before the ogre could take another swing an arrow from Imoen buried itself into the ogre's eye, killing it instantly. As it toppled to the ground Ajantis had to roll out of the way to avoid being smothered underneath the beast. Jaheira healed herself after checking the others to ensure that no one else needed her aid.

Imoen found two enchanted belts and some small gemstones of marginal quality and value. Jeral and Garrick closely examined the two belts and quietly chatted to one another. After a few minutes Garrick declared that one of the belts offered some minor protection against slashing and piercing weapons while the other was cursed to reversed the wearer's sex. It was agreed that Jaheira should wear the protective belt and Jeral offered to hold the other belt for safe keeping. Smiling, Jeral knew he would have an opportunity to put the belt to good use at some point. Gorion had always scolded him for the practical jokes he and Imoen pulled on the residents of Candlekeep but there had always been a gleam in his eye as he did so.

They walked in silence for a few hours. Jaheira clearly was enjoying the outdoors and the beautiful day. Khalid was just enjoying his wife's happiness. Jaheira stopped abruptly, raised her arm in the air and took a deep breath. "Someone is cooking," she said. "They are cooking human flesh. Prepare yourselves." The party cautiously moved in the direction Jaheira indicated. Peering through some trees they could see approximately 8 hobgoblins arguing over some meat on a spit over a fire pit. Jeral did not speak hobgoblin but they were obviously arguing over portion size. The group readied their ranged weapons, all save Ajantis, and attacked the creatures. With complete surprise on their side the eight hobgoblins were quickly dispatched without anyone in the party receiving any damage at all. The camp gave the party some small amount of gold and a supply of arrows before they moved on.

They had gone less than a mile when they were challenged by a lone armed member of the Flaming Fist. Shouting "I am the law, stop in the name of…well in the name of me!" he approached the party. Jaheira put a restraining hand on Jeral's forearm. "I will handle this Jeral. The Fist is normally a source of law and order in this land. One must be respectful and tactful in dealing with them." Nodding his assent Jeral watched Jaheira approach the mercenary. The mercenary came to a stop in front of Jaheira and declared that she and her companions were all clearly bandits and must be punished. Jaheira took offense at being called a bandit. Things quickly escalated from there and before too long Khalid was reluctantly strapping on a new set of plate mail armor and he placed his chain mail armor in his pack for a future sale. They offered the plate mail armor to Ajantis but he refused to wear such ill gotten gain.

"I realize he was overzealous in his application of the law and that we fought in self defense but I cannot wear such tainted armor," the paladin solemnly intoned.

As the party walked away from the corpse Jeral innocently asked how calling someone "the pox on a diseased Gibberling's ass" could be considered respectful and tactful. Jaheira glowered at him as Khalid and the others laughed in amusement. The laughs did not die down until everyone realized they had best quicken their pace to catch up to the back of a rapidly disappearing druid.

It was twilight when they reached the outskirts of Nashkel on the Amnian border. They crossed the bridge into the village and were immediately confronted by a guard who asked their names and business. Their brief response served to placate the guard and they were granted entry into the town. It was little more than a row of buildings along the main street with a stream on the other side of the road. Khalid suggested the meet with Mayor in the morning and they headed to the Nashkel Inn.

The Inn was small, sparsely crowded and dimply lit. From across the common room a voice announced the presence of yet another assassin.

"This may be a touch unlady like but I'm going to slit your throat I am." Advancing out of the gloom was an armored woman wielding a war hammer.

"_How can she slit my throat with a hammer? How dumb is that? And what is with the pre attack speech. Just shut up and try to kill me already."_ Jeral mused to himself as he drew his sword and started to charge the advancing woman.

She halted halfway across the room and started casting a spell. As she completed the spell, Jeral, Imoen and Jaheira froze in place.

Ajantis and Khalid advanced on the woman and placed themselves between her and their immobilized companions. Garrick started shooting crossbow bolts at the woman. The bolts could not pierce through her chain mail armor, helm and shield. She and the two fighters were busily trading blows and the sound of weapons striking shields rang through the inn as other patrons scrambled out of the way. The assassin seemed unable to penetrate their defenses while they seemed equally unable to do damage to the assassin. Khalid made a sweeping overhead attack that was neatly blocked against the woman's shield. To Khalid's horror his sword shattered on her shield leaving him weaponless. Khalid slowly backed up under a furious barrage of hammer strikes. His shield was slowly being deformed from all the blows.

Ajantis seized on her distraction and finally penetrated her defenses with a high backhanded slash to her unprotected throat. She dropped her hammer and shield and tried to staunch the flow of blood from her neck with her hands. Coughing up blood she fell to the floor and the party impassively watched her bleed out. As she died the immobilized party members were freed from her hold person spell. Quickly searching the body Imoen found a magical helm, a few hundred in gold and yet another bounty notice with a bounty set at six hundred and eighty pieces of gold. "By the way, they now mention that you have a group of well armed friends. Nice to know we finally get some attention as well. This one was apparently called Neira," Imoen stated.

Acting as nonchalant as possible the party requested three rooms at the Inn. Wordlessly they trudged upstairs to get some sleep at the end of a long day. Khalid and Jaheira took the first room, and Garrick and Ajantis entered the second. Imoen headed for the third door. Jeral slowly followed Imoen into the room.

Imoen was already undressing by the bed. Once the door closed she finished undressing, slipped into her nightshirt and slid into bed. Jeral quickly changed and slid in next to her. Wordlessly they cuddled together and went no farther than that. Secure together they went to sleep.

Jeral awoke in the morning feeling refreshed and happier than he had in days. Imoen was already awake and putting her gear back on, ready to face whatever lay ahead.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Off to the Mines Day 9

The party met for a quick breakfast and discussed the plans for the day. Jaheira and Khalid had already met the mayor, one Berren Gashkel, and he had requested assistance to determine what evil was plaguing the Nashkel mine and corrupting the iron ore. Jaheira stated that this was an opportunity to help restore the balance, while Garrick viewed it as an opportunity to gain heroic tales for the retelling in lore and song. For his part, Ajantis viewed it as an opportunity to prove his virtue and ability to his Order and to Helm. Imoen and Jeral just nodded and went along with the group.

They left the inn and headed south on the only road in town, small children, chickens and town folks doing about their business made the small lane chaotic. A quick stop at the general store replenished supplies. While at the store they sold Khalid's old chainmail and replaced Khalid's shattered sword and battered shield. Khalid hefted the newly purchased blade and looked at it skeptically, "This one may not be much better my friends. What with the iron crisis and all. But I, I. I am sure it will work out for the best."

Past the temple an obese sweaty man tried to give the party gold for a reward due to one Greywolf the bounty hunter. Before Imoen or Jeral could reach for the money Ajantis had pointed out that there was some mistake and that the party was not due any bounty and that they had nothing to do with any bounty hunter. Muttering under her breath, "stupid goody goody" Imoen stuck her tongue out at Ajantis. Fortunately for all concerned the paladin did not notice.

The party next came across a giant of a man who was clearly distraught. The agitated man before them was well over six and a half feet tall, broad of shoulder and heavily muscled. Clad in splint mail he had a large two handed sword strapped to his back. His head was shaved and a large purple tattoo covered half of his friendly open face. A small furry rodent perched on his shoulder and the man appeared to be taking guidance from the animal.

In a cheerful yet booming voice the large man intoned, "Stop and go no further, Minsc and Boo would have words with you." Jeral identified the accent as that of Rasheman, a wild and untamed land far to the north and west. Jeral stepped forward and greeted the giant. "Greetings Minsc, I am Jeral, this is my sister Imoen, and my companions Khalid, Jaheira, Ajantis, and Garrick."

"You must greet Boo as well small one."

"Who is Boo?"

"Boo is my miniature giant space hamster, and my friend."

"Are you serious?"

"Minsc is always serious. Unless Boo tells a funny joke, then Minsc is not serious."

Following his personal policy of never angering large, heavily armed men who appear a little bit imbalanced, Jeral bowed and formally introduced himself and his companions the miniature giant space hamster named Boo. The hamster sat up and chattered in a way that made Jeral feel he was being greeted in return.

"Boo appreciates your greeting and we request your aid. Minsc has lost his witch. He is charged with protecting the fair witch Dynaheir. The smelly dog people knocked Minsc on the head and took his witch. Misch and Boo tracked them to the castle in the direction of the setting sun. Minsc needs aid to free her. Boo says that Minsc cannot free his witch without help."

"A damsel in distress, how can we ever refuse?" Garrick cried. "The bards will sing our praises."

"You are a bard Garrick." Cracked Imoen.

"I know that, I mean other bards will sing about me. I mean us. How delicious is that?"

Interrupting the sidetracked pair the paladin spoke, "These foul beats must be exterminated and the lady rescued," Ajantis intoned.

Elbowing Imoen as she approached Minsc Imoen spoke back up. "They are right brother, we have to help him, besides his hamster is cute." With that Boo ran down Minsc's body and ran over to Imoen, perching himself in her hands as she cooed over him. Looking at Khalid and Jaheira, and receiving slight affirmative nods in reply, Jeral agreed the group would go with Minsc. The mines and the larger iron crisis would have to wait for a few more days.

The newly enlarged party headed west out of town. Crossing a small bridge they were approached by a young wizard sporting garish bejeweled red robes and a closely cropped beard. He looked disdainfully at the party and started walking towards them.

"You there, unwashed ones, I have a task for you."

"What task might that be?" Jeral asked.

"Accept or not before I explain. You should be honored to work for one such as myself."

"We do nothing without an explanation." Jeral started to walk by the annoying mage.

Quickly moving to stand in front of Jeral again he said,"I need to have someone killed.

"Keep talking."

"I am searching for a witch called Dynaheir, a member of the lesser gender and a lesser nation of magic" Jeral realized that this annoying man was in a lot of trouble.

"RRRRAAAAGGGGRR. Dynaheir is Minsc and Boo's witch! No evil red wizard will harm her! Minsc would kick the pants of evil but the evil wizard does not wear pants so Minsc does not know where to kick." Minsc stood with his hands at his sides trembling with rage. The remainder of the party simply stared open mouthed at Minsc.

The red robed mage shook his head in resignation, "As allies of the witch, you must now die. I the great Edwin Odessarian must now destroy all of you." With that he started muttering the words to a spell. Before anyone else could react Minsc had closed with the wizard and clubbed him across the face with a meaty fist. The wizard collapsed in a heap. His nose was bloody and broken and not a few teeth were on the bridge. A faint rise of the chest showed that he was still alive, just knocked out.

Jeral walked up and knelt by the body. "Jeral, you cannot kill him now that he is defenseless." The paladin laid a firm hand on Jeral's shoulder.

"Relax Ajantis, who said anything about killing him?" Smiling Jeral took the cursed belt from his pack and affixed it to the red wizard. In an instant the battered wizard had changed into an equally bloody and battered – yet not unattractive – female wizard. Jaheira and the others could only laugh.

"Minsc does not understand what happened to evil wizard but Boo says that he got what he deserved so Minsc is happy." With that the party set off across the bridge westward in search of the captive witch. Once they crossed the bridge they were accosted by a man who had to be the town dolt, there was no other explanation. He followed along behind the party asking inane questions and repeatedly touching the female party member's arms. Noober was extremely annoying; they knew his name was Noober because he announced that fact in every other sentence. Jeral was almost ready to strike the fool when Imoen came up with a better solution. Imoen leaned in close and whispered in Noober's ear. With a shout of joy he took off at a sprint back towards town. Everyone looked at Imoen in amazement. Smiling she stated that she informed the lovely gentleman that a beautiful maiden awaited him on the bridge and that she needed a strong man to take care of her. He went running off while stating how he wanted to meet a nice girl and this could be his chance.

"A fate far worse than death lies ahead for the unfortunate red wizard,' Khalid intoned. The group shared a laugh as they walked further away from Nashkel.

The group headed west out of Nashkel, Minsc scouted ahead and Imoen was following behind Minsc trying to copy his stealthy yet swift strides. Imoen had begged Jeral to be the party scout and he had reluctantly obliged her so she was working hard to keep up with Minsc. Imoen was walking along the edge of a recently plowed field when she suddenly stumbled and fell into a small tree. Jeral and Jaheira rushed up as Imoen picked herself off the ground and dusted herself off.

"Stupid green rock," Imoen muttered as she kicked at a shiny green object that was protruding from the ground.

Jaheira bellowed, "Stand back children, that is an Ankheg and they can swallow a man whole!" Jeral let the child quip slide and they all scrambled back with their weapons ready. After a few seconds they realized that the green rock had not moved at all.

Jaheira slowly approached it and prodded it with her enchanted quarterstaff. Khalid and Ajantis followed her up and the three were soon on their hands and knees digging furiously. After about 10 minutes of hard effort they stood up holding a shining green suit of armor. Jaheira announced that it was Plate mail made from the shell of an Ankheg, as such it was highly prized for its strength, resistance to acid and light weight. Jeral eyed the armor and was impressed with its beauty. "I wonder who lost this armor in a farm field. Oh well finders keepers. Only you, Khalid, Ajantis and Minsc would wear such heavy armor and it clearly is too small for Minsc."

"T-t-t-t-try it d-dear. It is from nature after all."

Jaheira shed her studded leather armor and tried on the green plate mail. It fit like a glove and she tried to hide her smile as she stretched and moved in it. Imoen shed her leather armor and tried on Jaheira's old studded leather. It fit well enough and Imoen beamed happily in her new heavier armor.

Marveling at their good fortune they continued to the west. The remainder of the day passed uneventfully and near sunset Jaheira suggested they stop for the night. The party set up camp. Minsc busied himself by gathering wood for a small fire. He explained that by using certain wood and by building a shallow fire pit they could have a fire with very little smoke or glare to give away their position. Minsc seemed one with nature as much as Jaheria. Jeral took the first shift on watch and the party settled down for the night.

Day 10

The next morning the party awoke refreshed and well rested and resumed their trek westward. Minsc was clearly concerned over the fate of his witch and held many hushed conversations with his hamster. Other than an attack by a pack of hungry wild dogs the morning passed uneventfully.

The party crested a small rise and saw that their way was blocked by a small river. Jaheira stated that there were bridges across the river to both the north and the south. Minsc stated that the gnoll tracks headed south so the party continued on to the south. After a short while they approached a narrow wooden bridge that spanned the river. The companions prepared to cross the river but before they could they heard screams from across the river. As they readied their weapons they saw a tall slim man racing across the bridge. He was dressed in colorful silks and was clearly some member of the lesser nobility. At the end of the bridge he saw the party and quickly skidded to a halt.

"I am Jared of Baldurs Gate." He gasped, "There is a bear at the other side of the bridge, and it tried to kill me. Please protect me."

"Bears only attack people if they are hungry," Jaheira replied haughtily.

"Well he must be hungry. Please kill it so I can cross safely and I will do anything in gratitude."

"Mince is a ranger and friend of nature and furry animals. He does not want to hurt nice bear."

"Let us cross the bridge and see for ourselves and then decide. Maybe the bear wandered off," Imoen suggested.

With that the seven party members cautiously moved across the bridge.

As they reached the far side of the bridge they saw a large black bear rolling in the dirt. It sniffed the air, stopped rolling in the dirt and quickly returned to standing on all four legs. It looked at the party, roared, and charged.

"Well what do we do now?" Jeral cried.

"We return to the far side of the bridge and try the northern bridge, and quickly!" Jaheira said.

The seven turned around and started running across the bridge. They reached the end of the bridge and stopped, they were all breathing heavily with the exceptions of Minsc and Jeral.

"Well we have outrun the bear but he is still coming. And looking at some of you we cannot outrun him forever." Jeral directed a pointed glance at Khalid who was panting heavily and had his hands on his knees.

"Well some of us do have to wear heavy armor, you know. And p-p-p-plate mail can be a bit unwieldy when one is trying to run."

Smiling Jeral replied, "Forgive my ill time jest. Your armor may be heavy but I for one am glad you wear it for it keeps those of us who stand behind you safe."

"Enough chatter, the bear is clearly mad with sickness or hunger. The poor beast must be killed. I see no other way, unless someone knows how to charm the creature." After receiving no positive reply Jaheira reluctantly pulled out her sling and launched a bullet at the charging bear. It glanced of his side harmlessly. Garrick's crossbow joined in, as did Imoen's shortbow, Jeral's long bow and Khalid's long bow. As the bear continued to close the gap Jeral marveled at the ability of the bear to shake off damage. It had at least a half dozen arrows or bolts protruding from its body and seemed unaffected by the wounds.

As it reached the foot of the bridge Minsc attacked the bear with a massive overhand slash from his great sword while Ajantis flanked the large ranger. Minsc's blow dug deep into the bear's neck and fore leg. The bear lashed out and struck Minsc in the side. With a roar Minsc fell to the ground as blood gushed from his side. Before the bear could strike Minsc again sword strikes from Ajantis struck home and the bear fell to the ground dead.

Jaheira rushed up to Minsc to tend to his wounds. After a few healing spells and a couple of minutes time the ranger was back on his feet shaking off the effects of the blow. Other than some small slashes in his splint mail Minsc looked unaffected by the attack.

They noticed that the agitated noble Jared was standing off to the side shifting nervously from foot to foot. "Um, I thank you for your assistance. Here." With a rush he handed a pair of boots to Imoen and dashed across the bridge.

"So much for anything we wanted as a reward. Oh well. Anyone want a pair of boots?"

Garrick approached Imoen and examined the boots closely. "They appear to be enchanted and provide some limited protection against the cold." It was quickly decided that Minsc deserved the boots and he happily put them on.

"Look Boo, the boots are furry just like you." After a serious of furious squeaks Minsc continued, "Boo, I am sure these boots are not made from the fur of hamsters, they must be the fur of evil ice weasels or other icky but furry creatures."

Laughing and shaking their heads the party resumed their trek across the river. At the end of the day a massive fortress, perched atop a lightly wooded hill loomed in view. It was on the other side of a deep chasm crossed only by a narrow rope bridge. Well worn paths headed down the hill, up the hill, and straight towards the fortress from the base of the footbridge.

"My witch is in there."

"Assuredly you are correct, we must rest and move out at first light tomorrow," Jahiera said.

"We must go now to save Minsc's witch."

"J, j- j- j Jaheira is right good ranger. We need the rest and some of you cannot see at night."

"Minsc, I agree with Khalid and Jaheira, we need to be at full strength if we are to save your witch." Minsc glumly nodded at Jeral and the party quickly set up camp. Since they were so close to the gnolls they dared not light a fire and spent a cold night on hard ground.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: The Rescue - Day 11

At first light they broke camp. Determined to move quickly and expecting combat they left their bedrolls and other camping supplies behind and set off for the fortress. Lightly encumbered they moved quickly and were at the rope bridge within an hour. The bridge looked to be a couple hundred feet long and swayed menacingly in the wind.

"Imoen and I are lightest, so we should go first to test the bridge." At this comment Jaheira snorted. Smiling, Jeral gave a mocking half bow and said, "Dear lady that fact is, of course, only due to your heavy armor and equipment and was not meant to imply anything about the lady within the armor." Khalid openly laughed until he was silenced by a glare from Jaheira.

"Very well, you two go ahead, just be careful."

Imoen and Jeral started to walk across the bridge. It felt solid enough under their feet and they believed that it could safely hold the entire party.

When they were close to the other side of the bridge they noticed a good size hut camouflaged in some trees near the base of the bridge. Noises could be heard from inside the hut and a cooking fire with a vaguely human looking torso on a spit was in front of the hut.

"This can't be good."

"I fear you are correct Imoen. We may want to rejoin the others before we are noticed."

"Good idea Jeral." The two started slowly backing away from the end of the bridge.

A large ogrillion strolled out of the hut. Jeral immediately recognized the beast from his studies back in Candlekeep. The summary about the creature quickly flashed through his mind. _Closely related to their larger ogre cousins, ogrillions are still around seven feet tall and incredibly strong. They crave human flesh and have an excellent sense of smell. _

The ogrillion checked the food and tore a large slab off and started eating it. He turned to walk back into the hut but as he turned he saw Jeral and Imoen on the bridge not four feet away. Snatching up a nearby axe he walked towards the bridge.

In a fractured common the ogrillion snarled "Hey! Me Gnarl, you stop! You pay to walk bridge."

"Uh let us ask our friends."

"Yeah, what he said, wait here we will be right back."

With that Jeral and Imoen turned and raced back across the bridge.

The raced to the end of the bridge and turned to see the ogrillion still walking towards them. Behind him they could see a second creature, wielding a large sword starting to cross the bridge towards the party. The party readied their weapons and Jaheira, Minsc, and Ajantis formed a first rank while the other party members readied missile weapons.

As Gnarl reached the end of the bridge he was attacked by all seven before he could prepare himself. After taking a few blows from Ajantis and Jaheira he was finally decapitated by Minsc and the headless torso fell to the ground. The second ogrillion, seeing the attack roared in anger and charged. Riddled with missile weapons he fell dead at the feet of the front rank of the party.

Imoen quickly looted the bodies and found a handful of gems, a pouch of gold coins and a pair of studded metal and leather gauntlets. Garrick examined them with a practiced eye. "I think there are to make one more agile. I know they are enchanted but I am not completely certain as to their purpose. What do you think Jeral?"

Jeral turned them over in his hands and stared at the gauntlets intently. I believe you are correct sir. These gauntlets will make the wearer extremely agile. Or course some of us are already extremely agile so we do not need them."

Flashing a smile Jeral tossed them to Jaheira. "Why give them to me child?"

Seeking to avoid calling her uncoordinated, and willing to overlook the child crack, Jeral quickly blurted out that her role as a healer made her extremely vital to the party. And since she spent much time in hand to hand combat without a shield this would help, when combined with her ankheg armor, to keep her safe. She seemed to accept this and put on the gauntlets. Twirling her staff a few times it was clear to all that she was more agile than before. She would now be very well protected in combat.

The party proceeded across the bridge and reached an intersection where three paths split off and headed into the fortress. Minsc knelt down and spent a few moments sniffing and eying the intersection closely. He slowly stood up and stated that the gnolls has taken his witch down the center path. There were fewer tracks on the side paths. After much discussion the party decided to stay on the center path since it provided the most direct route to Minsc's witch even though there was no chance to surprise whoever lay ahead.

"Prepare for anything." was all Jaheira said as they moved out. Minsc was in the lead and was followed by Ajantis and Jaheira. The remainder of the party hung a few steps back, and they were prepared to fight with missile weapons. Garrick walked a few steps behind the last rank and frequently looked behind the group to ensure no one could take them unawares from the rear.

After a short walk they came to a crude wooden gate that was adorned with skulls of many creatures. Jeral recognized many human, elven and Halfling skulls as well as other stranger ones that he did not recognize. Imoen was clearly shaken by the skulls. Jeral hugged her and they continued on. The party came to some wide stone stairs that were heavily weathered and started climbing. Ahead they saw three gnolls coming down the stairs. They were large creatures, taller than Minsc and just as broad. They looked like dogs but walked on their hind legs. They were clad in ill fitting armor, clearly taken from previous victims, and wielding an odd assortment of spears and halberds. With a roar the three gnolls charged the group.

Minsc, Ajantis and Jaheira stood side by side on the stairs ready to intercept their charge while the others opened up with missile weapons. One gnoll fell with an arrow in its throat and the other two closed to melee with the party. Since the gnolls were on a higher stair the back ranks could still safely attack the gnolls with missile weapons over the heads of the ranger, paladin and druid. The two remaining gnolls quickly fell to a combined assault with no damage to the party. They ran into two more small groups of gnolls as they climbed the stairs. Both were quickly dispatched. _Less than two weeks ago a single gibberling nearly killed me. I have come a long way in a very short time._ Jeral smiled to himself and felt ready for anything as they continued to move deeper into the fortress.

The party came to a second set of stairs that went into the actual fortress itself. They entered into a long stone courtyard that stretched a few hundred feet to the east. At regular intervals there were large open pits in the floor. There were only narrow ledges on each side of the pit allowing for single file passage across the open air courtyard. A large group of approximately a dozen gnolls stood in front of a large gnoll sitting on a throne. He sniffed the air, pointed at the party and the gnolls all lumbered to attack. The chieftain remained at the back of the pack waving a wicked looking battle axe above his head.

Jeral quickly realized that they must find a way to negate the gnoll's numerical advantage or they would all quickly die.

"We cannot face them all at once! Move forward to the pit so they can only attack around the sides. We must block both sides. The party raced forward and quickly split off into two groups. Minsc headed left followed by Ajantis, Garrick and Jeral while Jaheira, Khalid and Imoen raced right. The reached the narrow ledges on each side of the central pit and prepared themselves for battle only seconds before the gnolls reached them.

The gnolls charged in a mass and came up short when the lead gnoll was felled by a blow from Jaheira's enchanted staff. A second gnoll fell from arrows from Imoen and Khalid. The gnolls milled around in confusion. A roar from their leader, and a few backhanded smacks sent 4 other gnolls followed by the chieftain circling to the other side of the pit. The chieftain pushed the 4 gnolls in front of him. The lead gnoll found himself neatly sliced in half as Minsc took a huge overhand swing with his sword. The other gnolls slashed viciously at Minsc and Ajantis. The two men dodged the most dangerous of the blows but both were bleeding from several small cuts. Aided by Jeral and Garrick they quickly dispatched the three remaining gnolls in front of the chieftain. Minsc was clearly winded and Jeral was running low on arrows. The leader stepped forward and started trading blows with Minsc. Minsc managed to get in a good blow against the large gnoll, slashing into his left arm, but it only slowed the beast slightly.

The chieftan then sidestepped an overhand blow from Minsc and swung his axe sideways. The flat of the axe head caught Minsc on the side of the head. Lacking a helmet a gout of blood spurted from the side of the ranger's head. Minsc was hurled by the impact of the blow into the pit. Ajantis was standing between Minsc and the pit and was carried over the edge by the impact of the bulky ranger.

Drunk with the excitement of battle Garrick threw down his crossbow and drew his short sword with a flourish. Declaring, "Life is temporary, glory is forever!" He charged the gnoll chieftain while singing a drinking song. He ducked under a horizontal axe swing and stabbed the gnoll in the stomach. His sword buried itself in the gnolls stomach and only the hilt prevented it from going completely through the gnoll's torso. Howling in pain the gnoll stepped back and slashed quickly downwards with his axe. Garrick's sword clattered to the ground. Garrick's right hand was still firmly clutched to the hilt of the sword and was no longer attached to the young bard's body. Whimpering in pain and shock, Garrick fell to his knees cradling his stump of an arm. Blood spurted from the severed limb and the color was quickly draining from his face as his life quickly drained out of his body.

Jeral knew he had to kill the chieftan or else they would all probably die in the next few minutes. Swallowing his fear Jeral dropped his long bow, drew his long sword and prepared to engage the large gnoll.

_You are weak and will always be weak. The way of the bard is not a worthy path. The way of the warrior is the true path for one such as you._

Jeral was frozen by the voice he heard in his head. He had heard it before but never as clearly as he did right now. He feared that it was true. He had only turned to life as a bard after discovering that he had limited aptitude for magic and after realizing that life as a mere warrior would not hold his interest. He knew that his decisions had disappointed Gorion and that he hated knowing that he could not even protect his father from death in the woods.

Jeral snapped out of his trance in time to sidestep a wicked slash of the gnoll's axe. In doing do he stumbled over Garrick's now prone body and dropped to his knee. He looked up to see the gnoll preparing to deal the killing blow. He held up shield arm and realized that the small buckler would be of little use against the groll's massive battle axe. Jeral took a deep breath and prepared to die.

Just before the gnoll could strike, two arrows buried themselves in his side. Roaring in pain the wounded gnoll chieftan turned to his left to face the new threat as Khalid and Imoen readied more arrows. Seizing the opening Jeral lunged forward and buried his sword in the side of the distracted chieftan. As the gnoll roared in pain Jeral twisted the sword and slashed downwards. With a howl the creature sunk to the ground and Jeral watched as the creatures innards slowly slid out of its now lifeless torso. Jeheira rushed over, dropped her staff and knelt over Garrick. She ordered Imoen into the pit to check on Minsc and Ajantis. Khalid stood with his bow ready looking back and forth to ensure they were not surprised by any more gnolls.

Jeral slowly got to his feet. Jaheira cast a healing spell and declared that Garrick was alive but barely. His hand was still on the ground and he looked very pale as blood continued to slowly leak from the stump at the end of his arm. Wearily Jaheira got to her feet.

"Jeral, make a fire, and quickly. I need to seal his wound else he will likely die of infection or continued blood loss." Looking down at the bard she continued, "You will live, but there is naught I can do for the hand. Healing abilities far greater than mine would be required to reattach it, and none are here. By the time we reach civilization it will be too late." Garrick only nodded his head numbly, clearly still in shock from the situation.

Jaheira cautiously descended the worn stone steps into the pit to tend to Ajantis and Minsc. Ajantis was unharmed, merely badly bruised and winded from the fall into the pit. Minsc was in bad shape with a deep wound in his skull. It took a healing potion and Jaheira's last healing spell to restore the burly ranger to health.

While Jaheira was tending to Minsc, Jeral quickly made a pile of wood from broken arrows, halberd shafts and other detritus from the fight. Once the pile was complete Jeral started to strip off his chain mail.

"Jeral, I do not think it is w-w-w-wise to remove ones armor right now. We are still in great danger and far from safety."

Nodding Jeral continued removing his armor. "I know Khalid but we need a roaring fire quickly and there is little here to start a fire with the traditional way. I happen to have a short cut."

Muttering a few words Jeral fanned out his fingers and aimed at the pile of wood. Jets of flame shot from Jeral's hands and the pile of sticks quickly transformed into a roaring blaze.

Jaheira stopped and stared at Jeral for a moment. "That was…..unexpected. You never mentioned you had magical abilities."

"Well I do not have many magical abilities Jaheira. And they do not work while I wear armor so I do not use them very often. I can still use wands and scrolls while in armor however as I can use the magic in the item vice the limited magic I control. You needed a roaring fire quickly and now you have it."

Jeral bent down to put his chain mail back on while Jaheira found a broad spear head and placed the end of it in the fire. After a few minutes it was white hot.

"Ajantis, Minsc, please hold Garrick still." The two men wordlessly walked over and laid Garrick down with Minsc holding Garrick's wounded right arm steady.

"Screaming may help." Was all Jaheira said as she laid the spear head against the stump of Garrick's arm. He wailed and screamed like a wounded animal and struggled fiercely but the two warriors held him still. Jaheira eyed her work critically and apparently found something not to her satisfaction for she again placed the spear head back against his arm. The sound of crackling flesh and the smell of burned meat was too much for Imoen and she started to retch. Garrick mercifully passed out after the second application of the spear.

Tossing the spear to the side Jaheira eyed her patient and then stood up wiping her hands on her breeches.

"He will live. There will be no more blood loss and likely no infection. Let us find your witch Minsc and be gone from this place. The screams and smell of burning flesh will surely bring any remaining gnolls down upon us."

Jeral busied himself by picking up the few arrows that he could find that were undamaged. After reclaiming as many as he could find he wandered down the courtyard to the gnoll chieftain's throne. He felt horrible for Imoen and secretly he was queasy as well from watching Jaheira tend to Garrick. As he looked beyond the throne Jeral saw a pile of corpses next to a large black cauldron. As he approached he noticed the cauldron held the cold remains of a stew. Human body parts were clearly visible in the stew. The smell from the stew and the pile of corpses reached Jeral. Overcome by horror Jeral stumbled to the edge of the nearest pit, bent forward at the waist and was sick.

A shrill cry of anger and disgust from within the pit startled Jeral. Drawing his sword he walked around the pit to the stairs and descended. In the pit was a dark skinned woman. She was clad in torn, dirty mage robes and was busily wiping vomit off of herself. She was a short woman, no taller than Imoen, and clearly was a magic user. Her face had the regal bearing of one used to being obeyed. She was pretty despite the haughtiness of her features.

Smiling, Jeral sheathed his sword. "I presume you would be the witch Dynaheir? Minsc will be thrilled that you are safe."

"You have met Minsc? Is he well?"

"We have more than met him; we have traveled with him here to rescue you. As for if he is well I suggest we both check right now, for we have been in fierce combat and Minsc led the way every step. I am Jeral of Candlekeep. It is a pleasure to meet you. Also, um, my apologies for the vomit."

"That is no matter for you have saved me from a terrible death. It is always pleasant to meet ones rescuers. Please take me to Minsc."

The two exited the pit. They saw Minsc standing with Khalid discussing the battle. Minsc clearly was none the worse for wear from the experience and Jeral suspected he had experience suffering head wounds. Seeing Jeral and his witch approach the large ranger stood and smiled.

"Hamsters and Rangers everywhere, rejoice! Minsc is reunited with his witch." He raced over and picked her up in his arms.

"Minsc's witch smells bad but Minsc does not care because she is safe."

"Please let me go Minsc." Quickly he complied.

Laying a hand on his arm she smiled. "It is good to see you too large one, and Boo as well."

I must thank you Jeral of Candlekeep. Not many would willingly follow Minsc into battle for that is generally not a wise or safe decision."

"Dynaheir, allow me to introduce my companions. This is Imoen. She is my sister and also from Candlekeep."

"Nice to meet you."

"This is Khalid and his wife Jaheira. They are both warriors of note and she is also a healer." They both greeted Dynaheir.

"The gentleman on the ground over there is Garrick, a bard from Beregost. I fear he is still somewhat the worse for wear."

"And this is the Paladin Ajantis."

"It is a pleasure to meet all of you. Thank you again for my rescue. In gratitude all I can offer is our assistance. I am a wizard of some skill and I see you lack that ability in your group. And Minsc, well he is Minsc but he is a very capable warrior and ranger. Please consider us at your service."

"I would welcome your skill as well as that of Minsc. And I must not forget Boo as well." That last comment earned a pleased squeak from Boo. Imoen pulled some spare clothes out of her bag. Jaheira made all the men turn their backs while Dynaheir doused herself with a full water skin and changed into clean clothes. Jeral thought two women in matching purple getups was a little much. Imoen always did like her bright colors, even if they made her ill suited to be a thief.

Jaheira handed Dynaheir her sling and bullets so the mage would have a weapon as they set out to exit the gnoll stronghold. Jeral handed her a small block of cheese and a heel of bread that she gratefully accepted. They were both quickly consumed as the mage was clearly close to starvation from her time in captivity. Garrick leaned on Jeral as the party departed. Minsc lead the way followed by Ajantis and Jaheira. Imoen and Khalid brought up the rear ready to support with their bows and ever wary for anyone coming up behind the group.

They ran into a few additional small groups of gnolls on the way out of the fortress but they were quickly dispatched without too much effort. Due to Garrick's injury and their dwindling supplies of missile weapons they decided to return to Nashkel with all speed. They reclaimed their field gear and reached the river by nightfall. Before dark they took turns bathing in the cool waters of the stream. Minsc returned with some game and before too long they all were seated around a roaring fire eating rabbit and venison. Everyone was in good sprits, all save Garrick. Jeral moved to sit next to the bard and handed him a skin of wine. Garrick fumbled to open the skin with his left hand before taking a long deep pull on the skin. Wordlessly he handed it back to Jeral.

"We will be back in Nashkel in a day or two Garrick."

"That is true but what will I do? How can I be a great adventurer with only one hand?"

"You may still sing the praises of others. When I was in Candlekeep bards were some of the greatest chroniclers of history throughout time and across the world. If you hear about it you can sing about it, write about it and make it your own. Besides, how many bards can tell a story of how they rescued a damsel in distress from an evil fortress? And how many bards can say that they were grievously injured while in hand to hand combat with the leader of that fortress? You sacrificed of yourself in order to save the damsel. For the rest of your life you get to be a bard that carries a badge of his honor and bravery. You are a hero."

After a long silence Garrick slowly nodded and took a deep breath.

"Maybe you are right. This may all be for the best. If I am honest with you I absolutely hate adventuring. I hate the dirt and the danger and the sleeping outdoors and I really hate wiping myself with leaves. I am much happier in a nice warm tavern with a plump waitress on my lap while I make music or drink ale. Now I can sing about the adventuring life and never have to do it again. I think you are right Jeral. This may indeed be a blessing in disguise."

Jeral helped Garrick to his feet. "I adjusted your sword belt so it can now hang on your right side. You are doing to have to get used to using your left hand for many things." Garrick nodded his thanks and slowly sunk back to the ground deep in thought.

Jeral stood up and walked away from the bard. He walked to the end of the firelight and looked out at the river. Imoen came up to stand beside him. The stood next to one another in silence for a time. Finally Imoen broke the silence.

"Well we should be back in Nashkel in a few days right?"

"Correct."

"Good. I am not sure I am cut out for this life. I miss Candlekeep. I miss Winthrop, I miss my room, I miss Gorion." Imoen broke down in tears. Jeral comforted her for a while and then placed her in her bedroll where she fell into a deep sleep. As she fell asleep Jeral whispered "you are stronger than you know and I would be lost without you," as he watched her sleep for a few moments. Jeral took her turn at watch, in addition to his own. The night passed without incident and after another long day and a half in the wilderness the party reached Nashkel and headed straight to the inn.

The party rented four rooms. Khalid and Jaheira took one, Dynaheir and Imoen took the second, Garrick and Minsc took the third while Ajantis and Jeral took the fourth room. Imoen and Jeral shared a few furtive plaintive looks but accepted their lodging arrangements for the evening.


	12. Chapter 12

_This is mostly a transition chapter between the wilderness and the Mines. Next chapter will have much more going on. Stay tuned!_

Chapter 12: Partings Day 14

The next morning the party gathered to plan strategy for the upcoming day. Garrick clearly knew that his adventuring days were done. "Well I think it is safe to say that this handsome hero is done with his adventuring days. I plan to return to Beregost and start to sing tales of your exploits. The roads are not safe for one to travel alone, particularly a one handed bard. Will any of you accompany me to Beregost?"

Jaheira was the first to respond. "Garrick, Khalid and I need to investigate the mines. We cannot go to Beregost with you."

"The mines can wait Jaheira. Jeral and I will take you to Beregost. That is what friends do," Imoen snapped.

Jaheira was clearly unhappy with the turn of events. Dynaheir stated that she would prefer a few days to recover from her ordeal. She also needed some time to memorize some spells and reconstruct her spell book.

"So why don't we agree to meet back here at the Nashkel inn seven days from today? At that point we will go investigate the disturbance in the mines. Imoen and I will escort Garrick to Beregost, Minsc and Dynaheir can rest and prepare, and Jaheira, you and Khalid can do whatever you wish for seven days. Ajantis, you may do as you wish as well. Does that seem reasonable to everyone?"

Jaheira was clearly not pleased but she nodded her agreement. Everyone else readily agreed. Jeral and Imoen divided up the gold held by the party and evenly distributed it eight ways. It came to just over 160 pieces of gold per person.

They said their goodbyes and Garrick, Imoen and Jeral got on the road headed north. Once they were out of sight of Nashkel Imoen tossed Garrick a small sack. He tried to catch it with his left hand and failed. Sheepishly he bent over to pick it up. Holding the bag he asked what was in it.

"Gems. I took the liberty of giving you all the gems we picked up on the way. I am no gem merchant but they are worth quite a bit. You should be able to retire and live comfortably for a good long time on these."

"Imoen, they were group treasure, I cannot take them all."

"Sure you can. Jaheira got the gauntlets and armor, Khalid does not need money, Dynaheir just joined us, Minsc does not know any better, Ajantis has no need of material things, and Jeral and I want you to have them. So take them."

Smiling Garrick tucked them deep into his backpack and then closed it tightly to keep them safe from prying hands.

After a long day of walking that was blessedly free from any encounters, the three reached the outskirts of Beregost. They rented two rooms at the Burning Wizard and proceeded to have a wonderful dinner and far too many drinks. Garrick seemed happy to be out of the adventuring lifestyle and thrilled to have a heroic tale of rescue to tell. And he viewed his missing limb as merely a way to add credence to his tale. He was already getting more comfortable eating with his left hand and it was clear that the loss of his right hand at the wrist would be only a slight impediment to his future life. With many hugs and promises to keep in touch Imoen and Jeral said goodnight to Garrick and weaved their way upstairs. Pausing only to change into her night clothes Imoen collapsed on the bed and was gently snoring within seconds. Smiling to himself Jeral tucked Imoen into bed, changed, and climbed in with her.

Day 15

Jeral was awakened by someone tickling his nose. He kept trying to brush has face to stop the tickling but it continued unabated. He tried to ignore it and continue sleeping. The next think he knew his nose was being clamped shut and he could not breathe. Gasping for breath he sat up with a start and swatted Imoen's hand away from his nose. Giggling she leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. "Wake up sleepy head. You need to learn to be a light sleeper to survive in this business." Jeral tried to grab Imoen but she nimbly rolled backwards out of bed and out of Jeral's reach. Smiling they both got dressed to face the day ahead.

Imoen led them to the Red Sheaf Inn. "Why are we going here? Last time we were here a dwarven assassin tried to kill me."

"Relax Jeral. This is the worst inn in Beregost. What better place to watch thief like behavior in action?" Recognizing that this was another part of her training Jeral followed her into the Inn. They ordered weak drinks and took up chairs at a table off to a side of the main room.

"See those guys' playing cards Jeral?"

"Yeah."

Well the gnome wins almost every hand."

"So is he cheating?"

"He has to be. To a gnome cheating with cards is part of the game. Let's watch and see if we can notice."

The two watched the card game in silence for nearly an hour.

"See anything?"

"Not a thing."

"If he is cheating he is pretty good at it."

"Well either that or we are just not quick enough to catch him."

They watched the card game for another few hours while milking their drinks. The game broke up after the gnome had taken a lot of money from the three others in the game. They all stepped away from the table grumbling about the lucky gnome but there was no violence.

Imoen quickly got up and walked over to the gnome. Smiling she started talking to him and then sat down next to him. After a minute she waved for Jeral to join her.

"Jeral this is Golander Jansen. He is a retired adventurer who now just travels from card game to card game."

"Pleased to meet you Golander, I am Jeral of Candlekeep."

"I know who you are laddie, I noticed you the moment you walked in here. You and your sister both. It is hard not to notice two humans who stare at you for hours while you are playing cards. I would be careful about freely giving your name though. Others would gladly run you through to get the bounty that is on your head."

Seeing Jeral's look of concern he quickly continued, "Do not worry; I am not after your head, not at all."

Blushing, Jeral quickly apologized.

"No problem, always happy to help the young get into the trades. I was just glad no one else saw you watching."

"So how did you do it?"

"Do what my dear?"

"You won almost every game, you had to be cheating."

"Actually they were bad card players, I had to work hard to lose every once in a while just to keep it looking honest. So I did not even have to cheat much."

"So how did you do it?"

"Well I did two things."

"And they were?'

"I counted cards. When you play with one deck of cards that helps give you an edge because you can narrow down the percentage of a card being played based on what you have already seen."

"And the other? Well if they are dumb enough to use my deck of cards then it is simple, they are all marked. So I know what card everyone has to play. In addition I keep a few other cards handy just in case. With a slight flick of the wrist a high face card appeared in his hand. With a second barely perceptible movement the card was gone.

"Wow!" Imoen gushed. "Can you teach me, I mean us to do that?"

Golander laughed out loud. "Tell you what, buy me a drink and I will show you a few things."

Hours later they left the bar after thanking the gnome profusely. They made sure to check their pockets to ensure he had not filched anything of theirs. Thankfully he had not and they proceeded back to their room.

"Imoen, you have a lot to learn."  
>"That is true. But for at least a few things I need to learn I can learn them together with you. You would never be a good thief but you do have a very light touch and quick hands. So you can likely pick a pocket as well as I can."<p>

Day 16

They spent the next day sword fighting in the woods. Here Jeral's strength, reach and weapons training helped him quickly overcome Imoen. His long sword and buckler clearly outmatched her short sword and no shield. While Imoen was a very strong archer she was clearly was not comfortable fighting hand to hand and frequently said as much while they were dueling. At the end of the day they were both sore and tired. Another bath followed by a good dinner and a few too many drinks marked the end of another good day.

The rest of the week passed quickly. Imoen spent long days working on her thieving abilities. She was a natural at finding traps and opening locks while her skills at stealth left something to be desired. Imoen simply lacked the patience to move slowly, carefully and quietly. Jeral for his part could pick pockets as well as Imoen could, if not better, but that was the only area in which he had any skills at all. They both knew they had so much to learn in so many areas if they were to survive. At the end of the week they said farewell to Garrick again and headed back to Nashkel. As they were leaving, Garrick promised them he was working on a song of their exploits and would play it for them the next time they were in Beregost.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Off to the Mines Day 21

By mid morning the seven adventurers were back together eating a late breakfast at the Nashkel Inn. They gathered their gear and headed to the mines. The mines were only a short march away so they left their field gear in one room they retained at the inn. Traveling lightly encumbered they made good time to the mines.

"I would suggest we search around the mines before we descend into them."

Sensing the logic in Jaheria's statement the party turned west to skirt around the pit of the mine. The continued to circle around the mine site determined to search the surrounding woods first. Southwest of the mine they came across a man frantically carving a bas relief into the cliff side. The carving was of a beautiful elven woman. "This must be the artist Prism." Imoen remarked, remembering a bounty notice from Nashkel. "He is wanted for the theft of some emeralds from the town. There is a reward out for the return of the emeralds. I remember that fat man told us about him when he thought you were the bounty hunter Greywolf." With that Khalid and his wife headed for Prism with the remainder of the group trailing behind.

By the time Jeral and Imoen reached the artist he was in tears and arguing with Khalid and Jaheira. "Please, you do not understand, this is my life's work. This is my muse. I have sold all my possessions for enchantments to ensure I can complete this project. For three days I have toiled with neither sleep not nourishment in order to finish this. The picture is of a lost love. I have filled this work with my life's regret for the road not taken, for risks never ventured. For what could have been. At a critical juncture in my life I lacked the courage to risk my heart and have never forgiven myself."

Jaheira was clearly unmoved. "You have stolen emeralds from the town and must return what you have taken."

"But I only took the stones because only these stones could do justice to my beauty and her piercing green eyes. I must finish, please let me finish. Then do with me what you will."

"Good sir, you may finish your muse, we will not interfere with your life's work,"Jeral replied.

"Jeral see reason, this man is a thief," Ajantis declared.  
>"Probably. He is also a passionate artist and this is his life's work. Who are we to quash his dream? Besides, we can return him and the stones once he is done. They are not going anywhere."<p>

"I will be done within the hour, please let me finish."

"Very well you may continue artist, however know well that we are watchng you." Ajantis nearly choked out the words. The group spread out and settled back to watch the artist continue his work.

"None cross Greywolf and live!" The party turned to see a hard looking man stride towards them. He looked like a capable and grizzled fighter and wore studded leather armor with a beautiful long sword strapped to his hip. He was almost as tall as Minsc and nearly as broad.

"I have come for the artist Prism. He is wanted dead or alive and dead is easier for me."

Taking an instant dislike to the bounty hunter Jeral mockingly replied, "Can the mighty Greywolf not wait a few minutes to allow Prism to finish his work?"

"Who are you to dare cross Greywolf?"  
>"Actually a better question for you, my poorly named friend, is who wants to pick a fight with seven when they are but one? We have you at a disadvantage." Snarling Greywolf drew his long sword and advanced on Jeral.<p>

"Stay out of this, I can handle it." Jeral shouted at the others. As Greywolf advanced Jeral drew his long sword and faced off against the bounty hunter. His eyes narrowed in on Greywolf's gleaming sword and he realized with a start that is was a heavily enchanted blade.

Jeral started to back up, looking for favorable terrain for the combat.

Impatient, Greywolf leapt forward and slashed at Jeral. Jeral twisted away and was caught with a glancing blow to his side. The blade sliced cleanly through chainmail, skin, and muscle. Wincing in pain he kept backing up. He could feel the blood seeping from his left side. Greywolf soon followed with an overhand slash. Unable to dodge out of the way Jeral put up his shield arm to intercept the blow. His buckler shattered on impact but it was enough to divert the blow as the long sword missed his head by less than an inch. Jeral found himself backed up against a rock outcropping. He saw his friends off to the side looking on worriedly. Giving his best fake smile he shouted, "I am fine; I have this idiot right where I want him." Snarling Greywolf lined up a killing blow. Jeral frantically rummaged through a pouch strapped to his right leg and drew out the wand Imoen had given him back in Beregost.

Rolling to the right Jeral narrowly avoided Greywolf's downward slash.

Pointing the wand at Greywolf's torso Jeral spoke the word of command and a bolt of lightning shot out of the wand and right into Greywolf's chest. Greywolf staggered back, paused and then resumed his advance. His hair stood up on end and a large scorch mark was visible on his armor. Jeral saw the lightning bolt rebound off the far cliff and shoot back through Greywolf's body. It then hit the rocks over Jeral's head and bounced back once more into the large bounty hunter. The bolt then fizzled away and Jeral found himself looking through a hole in the Bounty hunter's torso as he fell back to the ground quite dead. Jeral weakly got to his feet and dusted himself off. Trying to look nonchalant he quickly picked up Greywolf's coin purse and long sword. Walking over to the remainder of the party he flipped the coin purse to Imoen and handed the sword to Ajantis.

"Ajantis, this is clearly an enchanted blade and also damages any it strikes with cold. It will be in good hands wielded by one such as yourself. Wield it with honor." Ajantis nodded his thanks.

"Thanks for that wand Imoen. That came is pretty handy just then." Jaheria approached Jeral and quickly cast a healing spell to close the wound on his side.

The party turned to watch Prism. After a short time he completed his carving. He then placed two large emeralds in the carving as eyes. It truly was a lovely work of art. The image forced everyone to stare at it in awe. Smiling Prism looked at his work, let out a sigh of deep satisfaction and collapsed to the ground as the last bit of life fled his body. Jeral walked over to the carving and plucked the emeralds out of the face. He tossed them to Jaheira. She wordlessly caught them and put them in her pack. Ajantis said a prayer for the deceased and then they left him where he lay.

The group decided that they had best enter the mines before losing any more of the day. After a quick trek they reached the mine entrance. The mine foreman was a grossly obese man called Emerson. He was quite colorful in expressing his disdain for foolish adventures but in the end he let them enter the mine. They realized that the source of any problems in the mine likely came from the deepest level. They found a helpful miner who sketched out a map of the first two levels of the mine. "We don't go down to the third level at all anymore. That level is full of them yipping demons."

Thanking the man, and wondering what a yipping demon was they followed the miners map through the mines. They descended to the second level of the mine without incident. Once there they ran into a large number of dog like creatures. They were about 3 feet tall, walked on their hind legs, had long tails, horns on their heads and wielded short bows or short swords. Dynaheir stated that they were called Kobolds. They were numerous, but other than a few minor scratches they were dispatched without too much injury to the party. Jaheira, Khalid, Ajantis and Minsc waded into them and cut them down in large numbers. After a few more packs of Kobolds and the odd trap they reached the lowest level of the mine. Imoen was delighted to learn that she could detect and disarm an arrow trap and that act filled her with more joy than she ever thought possible. They descended to a level that entered into a natural cavern. The tunnel ended in a narrow rock causeway across an underground lake and ended in another cave mouth.

Sensing that they were near the end of the mystery the party became noticeably more nervous. Ajantis stepped out onto the causeway and started to cross. He took half a dozen steps out onto the bridge. From off to the right four flaming arrows reached out for Ajantis, their fire leaving streaks of light in the darkness. Two arrows whizzed close by but the other two stuck him in his right side. One found the knee joint in his armor while the other entered his side under his shoulder. With a moan he crumpled to the ground and slid off the causeway into the water. Imoen screamed his name and froze. Jeral dropped his weapons and dove in after the paladin. Before he hit the water Jeral shouted, "Kill those archers!"

"MINSC AND BOO WILL PROTECT WET FRIENDS!" Roaring his battle cry Minsc stormed off across the causeway after the unknown archers. Jaheria and Khalid followed Minsc off into the darkness. Imoen fired arrows at the enemy archers in the distance. Sputtering and spitting up water, Jeral hauled Ajantis back onto the causeway. The water was only slightly over his head so Ajantis had not sunk very far. With Dynaheir pulling, and Jeral pushing, they managed to get the paladin back up on the causeway. He was breathing, although he had clearly lost a lot of blood from his two wounds. After a few moments Jaheira came rushing back from the darkness. She had a few scorch marks on her armor where fire arrows had bounced off her ankeheg plate mail. She quickly knelt down by Ajantis. "Jeral, grab these arrows and pull them out when I direct you to."

"Why? Can't you heal him magically?"  
>"Of course I can. But the arrow needs to be out of the wound, else it will heal improperly. Now pull."<p>

With a sickening wet sounding tear Jeral pulled the arrow out of Ajantis' knee. The paladin gritted his teeth against the pain but an anguished moan escaped his lips. Jaheira quickly cast a spell and the wound rapidly closed leaving unharmed, but pale, flesh behind. Jeral then pulled the arrow out of his shoulder. As the arrow ripped out or Ajantis a geyser of blood spurted from the wound and coated Jeral's face and torso. Cursing under her breath Jaheira worked to quickly cast a second healing spell. Within moments Ajantis' second wound had healed and the color slowly started to return to his face. Minsc returned from the darkness holding a dozen of the flame arrows which he handed to Imoen. "Fire arrows will help little archer," Minsc boomed.

Jeral's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he took a deep breath. The rich earthy smell of the Paladin's blood assaulted his senses.

"_Blood is power. Welcome the blood." _

A deep voice filled Jeral's mind. With a start Jeral realized that he was licking the blood off of his face and hands. Disgusted with himself he quickly dove back in the water to wash himself clean. As he pulled himself out of the water the others stared at him quizzically.

"Er, sorry but I slipped."

"Well brother, for one who is very dexterous you sure fall down a lot."

Jaheria just snorted in disgust.

"He will be weak for a while despite my healing, we should allow him time to rest."

"Jaheira, we cannot rest here, we are far too exposed. Like it on not we must go on. Ajantis can serve as rear guard while we move forward."

Jeheira mutely nodded. She helped the Paladin to his feet. Ajantis unsteadily stepped to the rear of the party as they resumed their march.

The group crossed the causeway and entered a smaller cavern. The cavern was well lit with torches in wall sconces. The central cavern went straight for 30 paces and then branched out into 3 chambers. The group turned right into the closest chamber. It was clearly set up as someone's residence. Furs and cheap tapestries lined the walls while a large hideous orange and red rug lay in the center of the floor. In the back of a room a large ugly half orc sat seated on a large wooden chair behind a desk overflowing with scrolls and books. He sniffed the air for a second and then looked at the group before speaking in heavily accented common.

"What? How did you get here? Did Tazok send you to kill poor Mulahey?"

"We know not of any Tazok, fiend. We are here to stop your attacks on the miners and your poisoning of the iron in the mine." Jaheira clenched her staff tightly and advanced on the half orc.

"_Her speeches are no better than that of all the assassins,"_ Jeral snorted to himself.

"Intruders! Help my minions! To me! To me!" The half orc bellowed. He then picked up his shield and morning star. Khalid shouted an alarm as a half dozen skeletons and half dozen kobolds appeared to the rear of the party.

"Minsc, Khalid! Aid Ajantis, the rest of us will help Jaheira." With that Jeral drew his long sword and waded into melee with Mulahey. Mulahey was trying to cast a spell but heavy pressure from Jaheira and Jeral continually disrupted his attempts. Dynaheir loosed a magic missile spell into Mulcahey while Imoen peppered him with fire arrows. Minsc bellowed a war cry and waded into the skeletons sending bones flying in all directions with each massive swing of his great sword. Khalid stood safely behind Minsc and engaged the kobolds with arrows. Ajantis, despite his weakened state, was holding his own against the kobolds and skeletons. He was doing little damage but was keeping the creatures occupied as he deftly parried their attacks.

The continuous barrage of missiles prevented Mulahey from completing any of his spells. Without his spells and his allies he soon fell to the combined onslaught of a quarter staff, long sword, arrows, and sling bullets. Once he fell, the party made short work of the remaining kobolds and skeletons.

The half orc's body yielded a clearly enchanted ring and a pair of enchanted boots. "The boots offer protection against lightening. I cannot determine the function of the ring. We can identify them once we get back to Nashkel," Jeral mused. A further search found a map, a note from a contact in Beregost and a pair enchanted short swords. Jeral put on the enchanted boots and continued examining the two swords.

"Hey! Over here!" Imoen's voice rang out in the cavern and everyone raced to see what had caused her to cry out. Imoen was standing over a body that reached up a feeble arm as if pleading for assistance. Jaheira and Ajantis knelt down over the body. After a few hushed words a blue hue encased the feeble man. Shaking his head he slowly got to his feet.

"Eighty and five days have I been entombed in this dank cavern. My thanks for the assistance and the healing. Some help with these chains would be helpful as well." Imoen pulled out her lock picks and shortly had the elf freed from his chains. He stretched out his limbs. He was clad in robes of the deepest blue, although the robes were now stained from months of grime and blood.

"I am Xan, a mage of some renown. I was sent to investigate the iron shortage and you can see my fate. Obviously you have been more successful." The elf was almost as tall as Jeral and very thin. He also has a face that was perpetually set in a distressed frown.

"Ahhhhhhh, there is some glimmer of promise. I see you found my sword, I will be taking that." With a flick of his wrist one of the short swords leapt out of Jeral's hand and floated over to Xan's. Patting the sword fondly he smiled briefly and made a few practice swings. The blade shone fiercely with a blue fire that exactly matched the color of his robes. He quickly sheathed the sword and then the ever present frown returned to his face.

"Well I guess that sword belongs to you good elf. Please come with us as far as Nashkel."

"I thank you for your kindness, although I suspect we are surely doomed."

After a thorough inspection of the entire chamber the group found a number of scrolls indicating that Mulahey had a contact staying at an inn in Beregost. The group knew that would be the next step in order to determine who was behind the iron crisis. Dynaheir also found a number of spell scrolls.

"Jeral, here are scrolls for armor and sleep. I have already scribed both of these in my spell book. If you wish I can assist you in scribing them in your spell book when there is time." Nodding appreciatively Jeral took the scrolls and stored them for future use.

Slowly retracing their steps the enlarged party worked their way back out of the mines.

"Can you believe the nerve of that guy? We save the mines and we cannot even get a thank you out of the mine foreman."

"Jeral, the goodness of the act is reward enough. We do not need thanks from any man."

Jeral could not help but role his eyes at the Paladin's words.

"Boo says the mayor of Nashkel will say thank you and give us a reward."

"Good point Minsc, I had quite forgotten about that."


	14. Chapter 14

_Some changes to the party composition coming up, so read on._

Chapter 14: Recriminations - Day 22

It was the middle of the night by the time the party reached Nashkel. The streets were deserted save for a half dozen sleepy soldiers of the town guard maintaining the watch.

"Well I guess we can get a good night's sleep and then meet the mayor in the morning. No reason to wake him up right now. He will be no less appreciative in the morning." The remainder of the party nodded and followed Ajantis down the street.

Jeral and the remainder of the party walked tiredly towards the Nashkel Inn. A lone figure sat in a chair propped up against the wall of the inn. Hearing the group approach the man rocked forward in his chair, stood up and started to approach the party. He twirled a hand axe in his right hand.

Shaking his head Jeral whispered to the remainder of the party, "When does it end? Everyone make ready, looks like yet another assassin." The party quickly prepared themselves for the advancing figure and likely combat.

"Does this happen with frequency Jeral?" Xan inquired morosely.

"Pretty much every other day lately, someone wants me dead."

"Jeral, to see another with a cloud of doom hovering over their head similar to mine is actually quite refreshing."

"Well so glad the threats to my life make you happy Xan. Can we get back to the assassin who wants to kill me?"

The man walking forward flipped his head back, tossing his hood from his face. Jeral gazed into the face of a grey haired man in early middle age with a jet black beard and long moustache that drooped down below his chin. Smiling evilly he revealed a mouth full of gold teeth as he spoke.

"I am death come for thee, Jeral of Candlekeep. Surrender and your passing will be quicker."

"What? Outnumbered eight to one and we should surrender to you? I think not."

"Why Nimbul has been tasked to deal with the likes of you is beyond me. Very well, this way is always more fun anyway."

With a snarl the assassin hurled a hand axe at Jeral. Jeral's reflexes were up to the task. Without thinking he twisted sideways and the axe missed his head by inches. Khalid was not so fortunate. Khalid was focused on notching an arrow to his long bow and the hand axe caught him full in the chest. The razor sharp axe sliced through the chest plate of Khalid's mail and buried itself deep in the half elf's chest. The long bow and arrow clattered to the ground as Khalid collapsed in a lifeless heap.

Nimbul paused to admire his handiwork.

"How wonderful, one axe, one death! Now it is seven against one. And I have more axes that you have allies!"

Jaheira screamed and dropped her quarter staff to care for her downed husband.

Ajantis, Minsc and Xan charged the assassin while Imoen and Jeral fired arrows. Smiling Nimbul easily dodged each and every arrow like they were no threat at all. Dynaheir added to the fight by casting magic missiles at the assassin. Her enchanted missiles struck the assassin but seemed to cause minimal damage.

As the fighters approached, Nimbul drew a short sword and started to engage Minsc and Ajantis. The assassin was clearly an experienced fighter as he danced between the two larger men jabbing out with his blade. He deftly managed to slide away from each and every attack with ease and found opportunities for quick counter attacks. Ajantis and Minsc were both bleeding from a number of small wounds as they fought the quicker, more experienced fighter. Jeral dropped his bow and moved forward, drawing his long sword as he went. As he approached he realized that Xan was nowhere to be seen. _"I cannot believe that Xan ditched us after all we did for him." _Shaking his head Jeral started to attack Nimbul.

Smiling Nimbul easily parried Jeral's overhead swing.

"Ahhhhhhh so my prey brings himself to the lion's jaws. How convenient, I think I shall kill you now. Unnnnnnnnnnnhhhhh."

Suddenly the smile dropped off the assassin's face and blood started to bubble and froth from his mouth. Looking down Jeral saw a gleaming blue sword point emerge from the center of Nimbul's stomach. Nimbul never saw the short sword enter his body. With a flick of the wrist Xan sliced open the assassin and watched him die at his feet in a pool of blood and intestines.

"Ahhh we are all doomed knave; but you will leave this world before I do." The elf smiled grimly and cleaned his blade on Nimbul's torn cloak.

Jeral quickly collected the assassin's things and then turned to look back at Khalid. Jaheira had removed the axe from his chest and was cradling her husband's head on her lap.

"Khalid, my love. Come back to me." Tears streamed down her face. Jeral knelt down beside her. "Jaheira how is he?"  
>"How is he? How can you ask that you fool? An axe buried itself in his chest. He is dead!"<p>

"Milady, can the priests not do anything?"

"I know not the abilities of a priest in this silly little border town Paladin. I suggest you wake the priest right now and find out."

The group stood in a silent observance of their fallen comrade. After a few minutes a priest came running out in his night clothes trailed by Ajantis. After quickly looking over the body he commanded Minsc to pick up Khalid. Minsc gently picked up Khalid and followed the priest into the Temple. Jaheira trailed after the large ranger.

Minsc returned outside. "The priest says he and his acolytes will do what they can. We should come back in the late morning. Jaheira will stay with her husband."

The party entered into the inn. They rented two additional rooms and retired for the night. The pride experienced from clearing the mines was replaced by a deep sense of loss and sorrow.

Imoen and Jeral retired to their room where they both silently prepared for bed until Imoen broke the silence.

"Jeral, is there anything they can do for Khalid?"

"I don't know. I have heard stories that powerful priests can raise anyone no matter what happened to them. I do not know if such a man is the priest here in Nashkel."

"Jeral, I don't think I can do this. I thought it would be exciting to travel with you but there is so much death, so much ugliness. So much blood. I just want to go home."

With the mention of the word blood a chill ran through Jeral's spine. Shaking it off Jeral returned to the conversation.

"Imoen, I understand your concerns. In many ways I share them. But you really have little choice. You can not go home. It is not safe there; even if you had a tome to gain entry. Dangerous people are after me and they would hurt you to get to me."

"So what can I do? I cannot live like this Jeral. I am not strong like you."

"You are stronger than you know. Imoen, once I find out who is after me I will make this right and will get you home. In the mean time I will try and find a safe place for you to stay."

"Promise?"

"Yes I promise." Now let's get some sleep, it is late. Imoen curled up in bed and Jeral held her until she fell asleep. His sleep was much longer coming.

_You need power to survive. Without power and powerful friends you will die. Continue to follow the path that lies ahead of you. You shall be blessed with a limited power to heal. Use it wisely. Follow the blood, listen to your blood, and heed its call._

Jeral slept fitfully as the voice in his head continued to fill his mind with notions of power and blood.

Jeral woke to the sun streaming in the open window. Imoen was nowhere to be found. Judging by the sun it was late in the morning. Jeral called for a bath and spent his time preparing himself for the day ahead. Leaving his armor and equipment behind Jeral strapped on his sword belt and strode downstairs. Imoen and Dynaheir were seated at a table in the common room deep in conversation. Jeral settled into a seat besides his sister.

Imoen looked up with a smile. Evidently her perpetual good cheer had returned.

"Morning bro. Dynaheir is just telling me stories of life as a witch. Magic sounds like fun."

"Well Gorion was a great wizard so magic should be something you are familiar with. So where is everyone else?" Dynaheir responded.

"The depressing elf left early this morning to report back to his kind. He thanks you for his release. Minsc is sparring with some of the local soldiers and Ajantis went to meet the mayor."

"Any word on Khalid?"

"No. The doors to the temple are locked up tight and there is no answer."

With that Jeral settled down for a hearty late breakfast while Imoen and Dynaheir resumed their conversation. As Jeral finished his lunch Ajantis returned to the inn. The young paladin was beaming from ear to ear.

"Greetings all. I bear tiding from the Mayor. Berrun Ghastkill called us heroes and thanked us for saving the mines. He also gave us 900 gold. I tried to refuse the money but he insisted. I also returned the emeralds to Oublek and collected a 300 gold reward for those as well. We do great things this day. Helm smiles upon us."

"Well I guess it is nice to be appreciated Ajantis. Although those emeralds were worth a fortune and I would have preferred to sell them."

"Jeral, they were not ours to sell, I will hear no more on the matter. I spoke to an acolyte from the temple. He said that the priest will see us at sunset tomorrow evening."

"Well I guess we have no choice but to wait another day.

The party spent the remainder of the day and the next in town restocking supplies and awaiting word on Khalid and Jaheira.

As the sun set a small child entered the inn and walked straight up to Jeral. "Excuse me milord. I was told to deliver this note to you." Smiling at the child Jeral tossed him a gold coin. The child yelped with excitement and bolted out of the inn with his treasure.

_Jeral. _

_Khalid is dead and I blame you. I know that you did not directly kill my love, but I feel that he died by your hand never the less. Khalid is a good man and deserves a better fate than this. I am working with those who Harp to find a way to bring Khalid back to life. I know in my heart that this is not his time to die. Gorion was a dear friend of mine and Khalid's and we both owe him our lives many times over. No matter what happens remember his teachings. Your life, and the choices you make, will echo throughout the realm._

_I am sure our paths will cross again. I cannot say how I will react when next we meet. _

_The priest here at the temple has a few items for you. _

_Jaheira_

Shaking his head Jeral wordlessly passed the scroll to Imoen. She hastily read it and then passed it to Dynaheir. Once everyone had read the scroll Jeral spoke.

"Well it looks like we have lost Jaheira and Khalid. The path ahead will be dangerous. Others will die. I have to continue but no one else here does."

"Jeral, you know I would never let you face this alone. Gorion was my father too."

Jeral nodded his understanding and swore that he would never let any harm befall Imoen.

"Jeral, if I want to be a force of riotousness in the realm and prove myself to the Order then I must face a great evil. And from what I have seen you have been drawn into a great evil."

"I am happy that my family misfortune will bring you the possibility of glory Paladin."

"Mince and I, and Boo as well, are freely and willingly in your service Jeral. Mince and I too both have things to prove to ourselves to we are with you no matter the danger."

Smiling at the witch and her protector Jeral nodded his thanks. He then excused himself from the table and retired for the evening.

Day 25

The next day the now smaller party entered the temple. The priest was clearly expecting them.

"Ahhhhhhh, welcome intrepid adventurers and saviors of our town. You must be Jeral and the others. Jaheira told me to expect you. I have a few items for you here that I was told you could put to good use."

Jeral could not wait so he interrupted the priest. "Pardon the interruption good priest, where did Jaheira go?"

The priest furrowed his brow and paused before responding, "I assumed it was all in the note. Jaheira left with her husband on a cart. She is headed south to meet with some Harpers who may be able to raise him from the dead."

"So Khalid may yet live?" squealed Imoen.

"Child, the Gods do what they wish. If his heart is pure and the magic is strong he may yet live. Although one who passed through to the other side will often pay dearly for coming back. Sometime the price is just too high for one to pay. Dark tidings. I will speak no more of this, please wait here." Shaking his head the priest shuffled towards the back of the temple.

The Nashkel priest returned a moment later with the set of Ankheg plate and the enchanted gauntlets of dexterity. After much prodding Ajantis accepted both items and replaced his battered, but highly polished splint mail with the new armor. While in the temple the party also purchased ten healing potions, spending a large portion of their reward money in the process. Each person took two to ensure everyone had some healing available since the party now lacked a healer.

After departing the temple the remaining five adventurers sat down at the Nashkel Inn to determine what was next. Jeral placed a large pile of items on the table.

"In gratitude for what we did for the town he priest helped me identify all the enchanted items we have accumulated. As I suspected, these boots provide significant protection against missile attacks. Since Ajantis is usually in the lead I would think he can put them to best use. We also have two enchanted short swords, they are not nearly as powerful as a moon blade but they are still excellent weapons."

"Minsc does not want tiny swords, Minsc would not know how to use such toys."

"Good point, ok I guess Imoen can take one and I will take the second. I have trained with short swords so I will keep it until we have more enchanted long swords."

"We also have a ring for a cleric or druid, since none of us can use it I suggest we hold onto it until we need it. I suggest we rest up today and tomorrow morning we can head to Beregost to search for this Tranzig fellow." The group broke up to attend to their personal needs and passed a sleepy night in Nashkel.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Moving On - Day 26

A departure at sunrise found the party walking slowly north back towards Beregost.

Ajantis led the way as he proudly strode up the road with his head held high.

Dyanheir and Imoen trailed some way behind the paladin as Imoen quizzed Dynaheir with questions about magic while skipping merrily along. Minsc was nowhere to be seen as he and Boo were deep in the woods communing with nature while patrolling the flanks. Jeral brought up the rear of the group, enjoying the sun on his face as he cradled his long bow in the crook of his arm. The sound of a voice ahead snapped Jeral out of his reverie.

Two men stood astride the road. One was a tall bearded man wearing splint mail, a horned helm, and holding a halberd. He stood mere paces away from Ajantis while a second man in splint mail stood a dozen paces back twirling a dart in his fingers. The man with the halberd placed it in the guard position and addressed Ajantis.

"Hey there fella, this is not your lucky day. "You've had the misfortune of meeting the fastest draw in the west. See than man over yonder? His name is Zal and he is the fastest dart thrower that ever walked the Sword Coast. He is so fast you amd your three friends there have no chance. So why don't you do the wise thing and hand ole Vax and Zal all of your gold. We will also take that fancy green armor of your hands as well. No need to die today. Consider this a tax on traveling this road and nothing more."

Jeral could only shake his head in bemusement.

_What kind of idiots take on twice their number in a stand up fight? Some people never will make sense to me. _

Ajantis slowly drew his enchanted sword and tightened the grip on his shield. "I am Ajantis Ilvarstarr of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. I command you to surrender and you shall not be harmed."

"Vax?"

"Yes Zal?"

"If you can take the one in the pretty green armor I can handle the other three."

"Sounds good, let us begin." Vax took a half step back and launched a fierce overhand attack with his halberd; Ajantis blocked it with his shield and lashed out with his sword. Vax nimbly jumped out of harms way as the strike swung harmlessly in front of the bandit.

Dynaheir was preparing to cast a spell while Imeon prepared to fire an arrow. Faster than Jeral believed possible Dynaheir and Imoen were both down. Dynaheir was cluching her leg as a dart was protruding from her thigh. Imoen had taken one dart in her stomach and a second in her neck. Jeral shot an arrow at the dart thrower and was pleased to see it strike the man in the side. Grunting in pain he turned his attention to Jeral and the bard found himself wincing in pain as three darts struck his chest in rapid succession. Their narrow points easily penetrated through the overlapping chain rings of his armor. Only the padded undertunic prevented the darts from penetrating to a lethal depth.

_This guy just does not miss. _Jeral fired a second arrow at Zal and watched it narrowly miss his unprotected head. Smiling Zal readied a second barrage and Jeral knew he could not survive three more strikes.

_I cannot believe a dart throwing moron will be the end of me._

Jeral stared at his attacker and prepared to dodge any incoming missiles.

"GO FOR THE EYES BOO!"

With a roar Minsc charged from the woods mere steps from the dart thrower. Zal quickly recovered from his surprise, spun quickly and launched three darts at the large ranger. Two glanced off his splint mail while the third dug into his shoulder under the shoulder plate. Minsc did not feel the strike and struck with his two handed sword. Minsc buried his sword in the man's shoulder; crushing his collarbone and ribs as he tore into his body. Minsc had to work the sword back and forth to pull it from the man's torso as Zal slowly collapsed to the ground in a bloody heap. Whirling around Minsc advanced on the bandit still dueling Ajantis. Caught between the two strong fighters the second bandit was soon dispatched. Jeral walked over to Dynaheir and Imoen. He handed each a potion of healing and they were soon back on their feet, shaken but none the worse for wear.

Jeral pulled the darts from his chest and watched the blood slowly trickle out from the shallow wounds. He closed his eyes and focused on the small wounds and he could feel them closing up. Stunned he opened his eyes to realize that he had somehow managed to heal himself. Glancing around to ensure that no one had noticed Jeral calmly went to loot the corpses of the bandits.

"These guys definitely had some previous victims," said Jeral as he hoisted two coin purses laden with gold and small gems. He kept looking and came across two potion bottles. He unstopped each and sniffed them. "Perfect," he exclaimed, "these healing potions replace the two we just used." He continued searching and pulled off a pair of well made leather gauntlets from the corpse of the dart thrower. He rolled them over in his hands and eyed them intently.

"That explains it!  
>Holding up the bracers he addressed the others.<p>

"These bracers are why that guy was so good, these are bracers of archery. These heavily enchanted bracers make anyone an expert with any type of ranged weapon. Legend says the wood elves user to equip entire armies with gauntlets like these."

Looking around the party his eyes settled on Imoen.  
>"Well sis, you are I are the only archers around, want them?"<p>

"No way, I have enough brown in my outfit from this studded leather armor, those do not fit my sense of style." Shaking his head and chuckling quietly Jeral strapped the bracers on his forearms.

"Hmmmm, nothing feels different, let's try and see how they work." Jeral quickly dropped to one knee and fired off three arrows at a distant tree as rapidly as he could. Smiling he noticed that all three stuck within inches of one another.

"Impressively done archer; Helm shines his light on you this day."

"Not sure if it was Helm Ajantis, but I thank you for the kind words. Let us be off and continue onwards to Beregost."

By the late afternoon the group reached the town of Beregost. Agreeing that there was no time to waste the party headed straight for The Feldepost Inn. They entered the Feldepost Inn and discovered that the common room was crowded with few open seats to be found. Everyone seemed to be waiting for something.

Jeral stopped a passing serving girl and asked why the Inn was so crowded. "It is crowded every night now for the people cannot get enough of Garrick the brave."

Fighting back a smile Jeral continued, "Any who my dear, is Garrick the brave."

"Why sir, he is only the bravest and handsomest hero of the Sword Coast, his exploits are legendary."

"Well I cannot wait to meet this hero." Jeral thanked the woman for her time and went to head deeper into the inn. His progress was stopped by a meaty hand pressed into his chest.

"Hey you there, we do not need any more of your type in here, it is bad enough we have to listen to that one armed idiot Garrick."  
>"Heh, you tell em Marl." Jeral looked up into the face of a tall and broad middle aged man. He and his companion both were clearly farmers judging from their tan skin and broad shoulders. Taking a deep breath Jeral forced his face into a smile.<p>

"Good evening gentlemen. I fear you may have confused me for someone else. I am just here to enjoy dinner with my friends. Please let me pass." Jeral squeezed the man's wrist and slowly forced the arm off his chest with enough pressure to discourage any further foolishness. Nodding silently he moved to walk past Marl.

"Do not ignore me you bastard, I will kill you for what you did to me boy." More confused than ever, Jeral turned around to ask a question only to see a meaty fist heading towards his face. Thinking quickly Jeral ducked his head slightly taking the blow full on his forehead. Marl's hand struck Jeral's forehead and Jeral heard an audible crack as numerous bones shattered from the strike. Bending over in pain Marl clutched the wounded hand to his stomach.

Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs away Jeral could not help but smirk at the injured man. "See here my good man, I may not know farming; but I do know about combat and about the human body. The forehead is one of the strongest bones in the body while the hand is full of fragile teeny little bones. That hand of yours is pretty well smashed up now. I suggest you quit while you are behind and head home."

Marl looked up, red faced and quivering.

"I am gonna kill you pretty boy." Screaming in rage he lunged at Jeral. Motioning the others to stay back Jeral quickly sidestepped the angry farmer and kicked out at his right knee as he lumbered past. The knee buckled from the strike and Marl went down hard again.

"Stay down sir, I have no wish to hurt you."

"Hey Marl, maybe he is right, let me take you home and get you fixed up."

"Stow it Durkin, I ain't done with this pretty boy yet." Sighing is resignation Jeral readied for another charge.

Marl stood up and slowly pulled a long dagger from the sheath on his belt. Durkin gasped when he saw the blade. "Marl, put the blade down, you can't win this fight."

Tears streaming down his face Marl advanced on Jeral. Jeral backed slowly away until his back hit the bar.

"No where else to go pretty boy, fight me or die." Jeral focused on the blade and prepared to counter any move from the irate farmer.

Marl lurched forward and slashed out wildly with a huge backhanded horizontal swing. Jeral slid to his left and struck out at Marl's right arm. His blow jarred Marl's arm and caused him to drop the knife. Jeral slid behind Marl and wrapped his right arm around Marl's neck. Using his left arm to secure the hold Jeral started bearing down, determined to choke the large man into unconsciousness.

WHAM!

WHAM!

WHAM!

Jeral fought back tears as Marl started ramming the back of his head into Jeral's face. Jeral's nose broke with an audible crack and his top lip split wide open. Jeral inhaled a mouthful of blood and felt a shiver of ecstasy through his body. Jeral's face twisted into a sneer and his eyes flashed with an anger that was not there seconds before.

"No more mister nice guy pal. I am done playing. It is time you learn not to mess with your betters!" Jeral leaned back, lifting the large man off the ground; as he pulled harder and harder on Marl's neck. After a few seconds Marl stopped ramming his head back. After a few more seconds Marl stopped struggling all together. Jeral closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and tightened his grip even more.

"Uh, Jeral, he is out cold. You can let him go." Imoen moved forward to grab Jeral's wrist. He did not respond to her touch. He just turned slightly to the side so he could better lift up Marl over his hip. After a few more seconds Marl's neck broke with an audible snap.

Breathing heavily, Jeral released his grip and watched as Marl's corpse fell to the floor. The common room was deathly quiet as all eyes were on Jeral and the body at his feet. Jeral stared at the corpse at his feet while licking his bloody lip.

"You bastard! Murderer! You killed Marl."

Slowly and deliberately Jeral bent down and picked up Marl's knife. Testing the point with his thumb he muttered, "This is a good blade." He pointed the blade directly at Durkin. "If you say one more word to me you son of a whore, I will let you join your stupid friend in the afterlife. This was self defense, not murder. No go before I change my mind." Durkin nodded and backed quickly out of the bar. Jeral walked up to the bar and tossed a gold piece on the bar. "Sorry for the mess, this should cover any damages." Nodding the bartender quickly picked up the coin." He tossed a second gold piece on the bar, "ale for me, as well as whatever my friends are drinking." Within seconds a tall mug of ale slid into Jeral's hand. He took a deep drink and drained the mug. Stifling a belch he thanked the bartender for the ale. Tossing a third gold piece on the bar Jeral stared intently at the bartender. "This coin is for you friend; all I need to know is which room belongs to a visiting mage named Tranzig."

"R-r-r-r-oom 9 upstairs milord." Nodding his thanks Jeral strode upstairs. Looking back over his shoulder he said "get us a table, I cannot wait to see Garrick again." Without a backward glance Jeral strode upstairs. Pausing outside of room number nine Jeral considered how best to approach the situation. A number of schemes ran through his mind. Shaking his head he settled on the direct approach. He placed the wand of lightning bolts in his left hand and a throwing knife in his right. Taking a deep breath he rocked back and kicked hard against the door handle. The door lock ripped away from the splintering door frame and the door swung wide open. Jeral saw a small greasy looking man in soiled green mage robes sitting at a desk with a handful of documents laid out in front of him. As the door smashed open he quickly started to rise to his feet and turn around. Wasting no time, Jeral hurled the knife at the startled wizard and it buried itself in the man's side as he rose to turn and face Jeral. The wizard moaned and fell heavily to the floor coughing up blood.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

He muttered through blood frothed lips.

"My name matters not. Just know that Mulahey sends his regards."

A look of recognition flashed across Tranzig's face. "That fool dares rise about his station! Tazok will hear about this. Whatever he is paying you I will double it! No, I will triple it! Please stay thy hand!" Jeral kept the wand pointed at the seated mage while he rifled through the letters on the desk.  
>"Hmmmmm, so your bandit friends move around Larswood and Peldvale, that is all I need to know."<p>

"Wait, spare me. Here is my ring of protection and the wand on the desk is a wand of magic missiles. Both are quite rare and are now yours."

"What else?"

"That is all I have."  
>"What? No gold, no gems? How do you pay for your room, your travels?"<p>

"Very well, there is a small pouch of gems and coins under the bed."

"Thanks, Jeral reached down and jerked the knife out of the wounded mage. With the knife removed from the wound the blood flowed freely and the mage slowly bled out in front of the bard's impassive eyes."

"Jeral looked under the bed and did not see any pouch, kicking the corpse in anger Jeral picked up the letters, ring and wand and left the room.

Returning to the common room downstairs Jeral was not surprised to see that his friends now had the table right in front of the stage. Smiling Jeral stopped at the bar and handed over 5 more gold pieces.

"For the clean up in room 9. My apologies." Quivering in fear the bartender could only nod, his multiple chins jiggling in the firelight. Jeral walked over to rejoin his four companions. They were all openly staring at him. Jeral picked up the mug of ale in front of him and drained it on one long swig. Wiping his face Ajantis gasped and leaned forward with a start." Jeral, your face is healed. When last we saw you, your nose was badly broken and your upper lip was split in two. They are now unblemished. Jeral reached up and felt his face, the paladin was right. Forcing a smile on his face Jeral lied smoothly, "just chugged a healing potion on my way upstairs, I did not want to scare away Tranzig." Looking to change the subject Jeral tossed the mage's letters onto the table. He also handed the ring and wand to Dynaheir. This ring offers some limited protection and combat and the wand fires magic missiles. Both weapons best belong in your capable hands. Smiling slightly Dynaheir accepted the enchanted items and examined them closely before placing the ring on her finger and the wand in her spell component pouch.

The group all ordered dinner and drinks and quietly sat back awaiting Garrick. Dinner arrived and the group dug into hearty bowls of steaming stew served with hunks of black bread and a sharp white cheese. While the group ate two attractive young women slowly approached the stage. Both women were dressed in matching dresses made of a very sheer red fabric. The dresses were slit high on both legs and cut low in the front leaving little to the imagination. The woman on the left had short red hair and sat down in front of a small drum. She picked up a pair of drum sticks and twirled them around above her head. The second woman had a mass of curly black hair that cascaded down to the small of her back. As she reached the stage she lovingly picked up a harp and started absently strumming the strings.

The audience quickly fell silent and a mood of anticipation hung in the air. The drummer started a slow rhythmic drumming while the harpist started playing faster and faster. The raven haired beauty then announced in a strong clear voice, "Ladies and gentlefolk, you are in for a treat this evening. For tonight you will meet one of the true heroes of our age; a man who not only worked to save the realms but lived to tell the tale. Though grievously injured vanquishing evil, he survived and he is here with us tonight. I give you….

GARRICK THE BRAVE!"

The audience erupted in applause as Garrick strode to the stage. He was wearing a tunic of the brightest blue with black velvet breeches and knee high boots with silver buckles. He looked strong and healthy as he strode to the stage. Jeral could not help but notice the Garrick now wore his sword on his right hip and the long sleeve of his right arm was pinned shut over the stump of his wrist.

With a flourish and a deep bow Garrick started to sing in tune to the music provided by his two lovely assistants. Garrick started with a number of popular drinking songs that had the bar clapping and laughing along with his tune. After those songs he paused and took a deep draught off the mug that was off to the side of the stage. Smiling broadly, Garrick motioned to the drummer and suddenly the music slowed abruptly and became much slower and more solemn. It now resembled a funeral dirge. Winking at Dynaheir, Garrick took a deep breath and started to sing in slow mournful notes.

_There once was a young man with a taste for adventure _

_Thirsting to live life far from home _

_There once was a young man with a taste for adventure _

_Far and wide he was ready to roam _

_One day while in town just living my life_

_I met some friends who offered me a change _

_They took me away for an adventure of a lifetime _

_For a opportunity such as that far would I range _

_We headed South to solve the iron crisis plaguing this land _

_Hoping to make a difference we strode towards danger _

_Along the way our plans did change _

_Westward we headed to rescue a stranger _

Garrick paused and winked again at Dynaheir before continuing.

_Seven we were as we headed West _

_Led by paladin and ranger, great warriors each_

_We continued on into the setting sun _

_Searching for a damsel who was just out of reach _

_Tracking our foe, a powerful tribe of gnolls _

_At the end of a long march a haunted fortress loomed_

_The damsel was there awaiting our aid_

_We all prayed she was not already doomed _

_Crossing a bridge we moved to attack _

_Slaying many a foe we moved ever ahead _

_No chance of retreat, we would never fall back _

_Only two options; succeed or lay down dead _

_After many a skirmish the end was in sight _

_The mighty gnoll chieftain and a dozen of his best_

_Minsc and Ajantis lead the way _

_Followed along by all of the rest _

_The battle was fierce, much blood was shed _

_We cut through many a gnoll and success neared _

_When the chieftain stuck a mighty blow _

_Minsc and Ajantis fell, possibly dead I feared _

_Drawing my sword I leapt into the fray _

_I attacked the great gnoll to protect this land _

_Driving my sword deeply into his hide _

_Roaring and slashing he stuck off my hand _

With the delivery of the last line women throughout the common room wailed and cried in despair.

_Wounded and bleeding my end looked near _

_But my mighty companions pulled me back from the light _

_As they killed the gnoll and staunched my blood _

_I knew I would live to see another night _

_As I cradled my wound and thought about the choices I made _

_I have no regrets about the course of my life _

_The damsel was rescued, the day was saved_

_No more adventure for me, just music…..and someday a wife. _

The last line was answered by a number of women screaming Garrick's name from various locations in the inn. Imoen elbowed Jeral and sniggered, "looks like lefty is doing just fine without us." Laughing Jeral could not help but agree. Garrick wrapped up his performance to a thunderous applause and his two musicians walked through the room collecting coins from the grateful patrons.

Sweaty and flushed with success, Garrick pulled over a chair and sat down with his former adventuring companions. "So did you like it?"

"Boo says you should have mentioned him, but otherwise it was a very good song."

"Helm smiles on you good bard for penning such a noble tale"

"While I do not see myself as a damsel I did appreciate the rescue none the less."

Imoen just smiled and hugged Garrick while Jeral simply added, 'well done good bard. Well done." The party stayed up late into the night catching up with Garrick and filling him in on the events down in the mines and about the attack upon their return to Nashkel. Garrick listened intently and promised to create another song.

Day 27

Jeral slowly trudged downstairs stretching out his tired muscles as he went. He had splurged on the best room in the house and had enjoyed the soft sheets and comfortable bed. For once no dreams interrupted his rest and he would have remained in bed had not hunger pulled him from his rest. Looking around the near empty common room Jeral did not see anyone he recognized. The inn staff were preparing for people coming in for the noon time meal. Jeral helped himself to a stool by the bar, ordered some bread and cheese with some watery wine, and pulled out a deck of cards. He started working on his card tricks, dealing off the bottom of the deck and other slights on hand while he waited for his food.

Jeral was so engrossed in his cards that he did not notice Ajantis and Imoen approaching his table. A purple clad sleeve reached across his face and grabbed a cube of cheese of his plate.

"Morning sleepyhead. I wondered if you would ever get up. Rest of us have been up for hours."

"Sorry, I guess I really needed my sleep. It felt good to sleep in a soft clean bed for once. I feel like a new man."

"Well we have been busy while you were snoring away, at least Ajantis and I have been busy." The last comment caused Jeral to eye the two of them closely.

"Ok, you have my attention, what is going on?"

Ajantis nodded severely and started filling Jeral in on their morning activities. "The Lady Imoen came across me this morning while I was sparring with Minsc. After I completed my sparring, and cleaned up, the lady and I spent some time exploring Beregost. There are two specific items of note. First, we met a flaming fist officer who will pay a substantial bounty for each bandit we kill. Apparently the flaming fist company here is unable to return to Baldur's Gate due to the bandit threat."

"So how can the five of us succeed where a company of flaming fist mercenaries cannot?" Ajantis shrugged his shoulders and continued, "Additionally, we visited the temple of Beregost. They are offering a substantial reward for anyone who can deal with the wayward cleric Bassilus. Apparently he is somewhere to the southwest of Beregost and is killed a number of innocent town folks. They will pay the ransom for his death or capture. I feel we must purge the town of that evil before we continue on our quest to the North."

"If everyone else agrees Ajantis I see no reason why we cannot aid the town before we continue to pursue the bandits."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Bassilus - Day 28

After a hearty morning meal the five departed Beregost and quickly settled into the usual formation. Ajantis was in the lead, the perfect image of a paladin. A handsome clean cut warrior with a strong jaw, clad in shining Anhkeg plate mail, visored helm with the visor raised, and a highly polished medium shield strapped to his left arm. The image was completed with a mighty enchanted sword hanging on his left hip. Jeral could only watch in awe as the Helmite lead the way. Minsc was nowhere in sight, off patrolling in the woods and keeping an eye on the party's flanks. As a ranger he was happiest off the trail and despite his large size he could move quickly and quietly through the thickest forest.

Imoen and Dynaheir followed the paladin at a distance. Imoen slung her short bow over her back while she peppered the mage with questions about the arcane arts. Dynaheir moved her hands rapidly showing Imoen the basics of a few simple cantrips while Imoen cooed in excitement. Jeral brought up the rear of the party. He walked slowly along and periodically turned and walked backwards to ensure no threats accosted them from the rear. He held his long bow at the ready, ready to face any threats that emerged from the woods.

The day was clear and unseasonably warm for spring and everyone was sweating heavily as they followed a narrow game trail through the woods. Despite his armor Ajantis maintained a brisk pace and seemed untroubled by the conditions. Jeral regularly drank from his water skin to quench his thirst, and he watched Imoen and Dynaheir do the same. Imoen was whining about sore feet and sweaty under clothes as the morning wore on. Clearly the heat was starting to take a toll on all of them. Near midday Jeral was ready to suggest a pause to have the noon meal when he saw Ajantis abruptly stop and draw his enchanted long sword.

"You surrender or you die."

"You make choice and you make choice quickly."

"Zargal has no patience to wait for slow witted city folk."

Jeral tensed and pulled an arrow from his quiver as he heard a gravelly voice growl out a threat in the common tongue. Despite a heavy guttural accent Jeral could understand the words well enough. Looking past Ajantis, Jeral viewed three well equipped hobgoblins standing in the middle of a small clearing that intersected with the game trail. All three creatures were clad in studded leather armor and two held long bows. While Jeral was taking the scene in Ajantis was already moving forward to the attack.

"In the name of Helm I strike at thee!" Ajantis moved towards the creatures at a controlled jog as he rapidly closed the gap. Both archers aimed at the paladin while the largest hobgoblin moved to engage Ajantis with a short sword. Even at the distance Jeral could determine that the short sword was enchanted. Jeral quickly knocked an arrow and fired at the lead hobgoblin. He smiled grimly as his arrow struck home, striking the creature in the left shoulder. Howling in pain it stabbed at Ajantis as he came into range and the two combatants began to duel fiercely. Imoen, Dynaheir and Jeral focused on one archer, and then the other. Both hobgoblins soon fell to the combined onslaught of two bows and one sling.

Once the archers were dispatched Jeral dropped his bow, drew his short sword, and moved forward to support Ajantis. Ajantis and the hobgoblin were dueling fiercely and the pair seemed evenly matched. Ajantis was successfully using the longer reach of his sword and his shield to keep the creature at a safe distance but he could not get inside his opponent's guard. The hobgoblin responded to every strike with a lightening quick parry or counterattack.

As Jeral stepped forward the creature quickly turned and attacked the newly arriving enemy, perhaps viewing him as an easier target. Short swords clashed as Jeral frantically parried the creature's attacks. The hobgoblin gasped in pain as a short sword stabbed into its back and he spun around to face the new threat. As the creature turned he lashed out with a fierce back handed punch with his sword pommel. Imoen's head snapped back from the strike and her sword fell from her grasp as she crumpled to the ground. Turning from the downed Imoen the hobgoblin turned to square off against Jeral again. Focused on Jeral the hobgoblin was unprepared for a wicked overhand strike from Ajantis. The creature's sword arm fell to the ground as Zargal dropped to his knees and fell forward, bleeding thick black blood out onto the lush green grass. The flow soon slowed to a trickle and then stopped entirely as the hobgoblin bled out onto the ground. Jeral raced over and checked Imoen. Other than a bloody nose and a black eye she appeared uninjured. Helping her to her feet he could not help but chide his sibling.

Imoen spent a few moments rolling her neck and shoulders to ensure she could move without too much pain. "Ok, I am ready to continue on. Ajantis, I thank you for protecting me."

Nodding gravely Ajantis replied with the barest hint of a smile. "It was an honor to do so my lady."

"Stick with the archery Imoen, backstabbing and melee combat clearly do not agree with you."

Wiggling her tongue around in her mouth to check for loose teeth Imoen nodded grimly, "That is a true statement Jeral. Although to be fair, you are not much better. You need to spend some time sparring with Minsc and Ajantis. Maybe you would learn a few things from the two of them." Smiling Jeral nodded his agreement.

"Speaking of the ranger, where is my protector? It is not like him to miss the opportunity for combat." Dynaneir's question brought the party back out of their reverie. The group realized that Minsc had not come to the sounds of the battle and that was a cause for concern. Jeral and Imoen quickly searched the corpses. Imoen located about 100 pieces of gold and three potions that Jeral identified as healing draughts. While Imoen was looting the corpses Jeral closely examined the leader's short sword. Jeral picked up the weapon and took a few slow practice swings. As the blade sliced through the air the blade whistled softly. Furrowing his brow in concentration Jeral turned the weapon over in his hands and scanned it for runes. Smiling he straightened and took a few more energetic practice swings with the weapon. It moved with blinding speed and whistled softly as it sliced through the air. Smiling he twirled the sword in his hand.

"Well I think an enchanted whistling sword is the perfect accessory for the well equipped bard such as myself." Smiling Jeral took his lightly enchanted short sword and placed it in his pack. He then removed the jeweled scabbard from Zargal's belt and placed it on his own belt, spending some time arranging it just so on his left hip. Sheathing his new sword he picked up his bow and nodded down the game trail. "Let's go find Minsc; and then we can find this wayward cleric." With that the four adventurers left the clearing and continued heading southwest. Imoen pulled an apple from her back and munched on that sighing about missing a meal.

After a few more hours of following the narrow game trail Ajantis signaled a halt and Jeral moved forward to stand next to the Helmite. Ahead stood a small grove of trees arranged in a circle around a stone altar and some low stone benches. Seated on one of the benches was Minsc and he appeared deep in conversation with a chain mail clad man who could only be the mad cleric Bassilus. Scattered around the grove were piles of bones and the corpses of various undead creatures. Jeral motioned for Dynaheir and Imoen to remain back while he and Ajantis cautiously moved forward into the grove. Minsc noticed the approaching companions and nodded in greeting. As Jeral approached he could see that Bassilus was sobbing and asking for forgiveness for his actions while Minsc patted him gently on his leg.

The weeping man finally noticed the newcomers. Glancing up harshly he spoke in a loud clear voice.  
>"Who are you? Why are you here? I am having a quiet conversation with my family here, how dare you interrupt!" Before Jeral could figure out how to properly reply Ajantis stepped forward holding his holy symbol high.<p>

"By Helm you shall answer for your crime. Your Temple has instructed us to return you to face the justice of Lathlander!"

Upon hearing the name of his God Bassilus flew into a rage and launched himself to his feet.

Pointing at Minsc he screamed, "You tricked me! You are no family of mine! I KILLED my family at your suggestion." The cleric started to back away from the group as he prepared to cast a spell. The three men charged the cleric but could not interrupt his spell casting. With a start Jeral realized that Minsc and Ajantis were now standing immobile, victims of the cleric's power. Bassilus hefted his golden war hammer and advanced on Jeral. As he approached Jeral an arrow and two magic missiles struck Bassilus in the chest. As the cleric recoiled from the blows Jeral saw his opportunity and lunged forward to stab him in the stomach. Bassilus easily turned the blow aside and countered with a short jab with his war hammer. Jeral twisted his body and moved his buckler to intercept the blow. As the hammer clanged into his buckler a jolt of electricity ran through Jeral's body.

_That is quite a weapon, if he gets a good strike on me I may be finished._

Jeral slowly backed away, parrying strike after strike from the deranged cleric. He made no move to counterattack and just focused on defending himself and avoiding a blow from the clearly enchanted hammer.

Parry, step back.

Jeral focused on flicking the hammer away with short swipes of his sword.

Parry, step back.

Jeral snapped his wrist time and time again, diverting the hammer strikes with quick flicks of his sword.

Jeral knew he had no chance to defeat his opponent in close combat so he was stalling until someone else in the party could take care of the mad cleric. Ajantis and Minsc were out of the picture so he was depending on Imoen and Dynaheir to come to his aid and turn the tide of the battle. Bassilus flinched as a sling bullet whizzed by his head, missing his eye by inches. Jeral seized upon the distraction and lunged forward with his short sword. Bassilus chopped downwards with his hammer and drove Jeral's short sword into the ground. Stepping forward he smashed his hammer into Jeral's chest with a mighty backhand swing. Jeral staggered backwards under the blow, quivering as his whole body shook from an electric shock, and backpedaled to avoid a follow on strike. Jeral watched as an arrow struck Bassilus in the shoulder and then a second buried itself in the center of the cleric's chest.

Bassilus staggered back under the blows and coughed up blood as he readied another strike on Jeral. A pair of magic missiles slammed into the cleric's chest, followed quickly by a second pair. Bassilus fell to his knees and slowly crumpled onto the ground.

Jeral looked over his shoulder and saw Dynaheir walking forward holding a wand in her hand. Imoen trotted forward and quickly looted the body. With the cleric dead Minsc and Ajantis regained their freedom of movement and rejoined the others. Jeral struggled to remain upright and counted at least three broken ribs.

Wheezing slightly from his injuries Jeral broke the silence, "Ok I think we need to head back to Beregost. We can visit the temple, collect our reward and I can get some healing from the clerics there."

Day 29

"Jeral, can you believe it? Less than a month out on our own and we hold a small fortune in our hands." Imoen held a pouch heavy with over 1,000 pieces of gold and a few pieces of fine jewelry. The priests in the Beregost Temple were exceedingly generous paying a reward of 5,000 gold for the death of Bassilus. Ajantis, Dynaheir and Minsc had departed earlier to go shopping while the siblings lingered over a late breakfast. Imoen was stuffing bread, fruit, and cheese in her mouth as fast as she could grab it.

Jeral answered and a trace of bitterness crept into his voice.

"Apparently there are upsides to having your father murdered and fighting off wave after wave of bounty hunters." The smile quickly left Imoen's face and she absently picked at her food as the two sat at the table in an awkward silence. After some time Jeral excused himself and headed off to the Beregost blacksmith. He pushed open the doors to the Thunderhammer Smithy and was welcomed with a rousing cheer from Taerom Fuirium the head blacksmith. Taerom was a short man, broad of chest with large arms and a gleaming bald head. A sheen of sweat cover his body as he wiped his brow and broke into a large grin showing cracked and yellowed teeth.

"Ahhhhh, you must be Jeral of Candlekeep. Some of your companions were in here earlier and they spoke very highly of you. What can I do for you?"

"I just wanted to see what you carried here. Your shop is known across the Sword Coast."

"Well you are right there young man. Please take a look around. Unfortunately, I do not have any enchanted chain for sale but I do carry various enchanted arrows and an enchanted buckler that would be improvements over your current equipment. That short sword of yours is finer than anything I carry in this shop. In fact I will give you 2,000 gold for it."

"Thank you but no. How much for a couple score of the lightly enchanted arrows as well as the buckler?"

"For you, eh let's say 600 gold."

Smiling Jeral shook his head. "Too rich for my blood my good man. How about five hundred gold instead?"

Taerom rubbed his hands together and licked his lips. "Let's just split the difference and call it 550."

"Done."

Jeral counted out the funds and handed them over to the blacksmith. Shaking hands he placed the new arrows in his quiver and strapped the new buckler on his left forearm. With a wave he departed the store and returned to the tavern.

Jeral entered the tavern and spied Minsc sitting along at a table in the common room. The large man was feeding pieces of cheese to his hamster who was lying on his back gnawing on a large hunk of cheese and Minsc warned him to chew slowly.

Jeral helped himself to a chair and sat at the table opposite the ranger. Minsc eyed Jeral and motioned to his new equipment. Boo says you have some new equipment to help apply the boot of justice to evil. Smiling Jeral could only shake his head in response. Scratching the back of his neck Jeral looked down at the table. "Uh, if you have some time this afternoon do you think we could spar? I could definitely use some practice."

Smiling Minsc slammed a meaty fist down on the table. The table shook under the strain and Boo squealed in annoyance as he was bounced around in a pile of cheese crumbs. "Minsc would be please to practice with little Jeral." Jeral chuckled as he stood up. Standing almost 6 feet tall and weighing slightly more than 12 stone no one had called Jeral little in a long time. But coming from a man who was six and a half feet tall who must weigh around 19 stone Jeral could hardly argue. Minsc gently picked up Boo and placed him on his shoulder as the pair walked around back to the stables.

The pair entered the stables and placed their equipment on bales of hay piled on the sides of the barn. Minsc located a pile of empty feed bags and wrapped his great sword in a number of them, securing them in place with some twine. Jeral removed his sword belt and placed it on a bale of hay. Reaching into his pack he removed his old lightly enchanted sword and wrapped it in burlap. "Why does Jeral not use his pretty new sword?"

"That sword is incredibly sharp and I worry it would cut through these wrappings too easily. I do not want to risk you getting hurt. You have saved my life too many times already to risk you getting hurt."

Minsc chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that shook the large man. "I am not too concerned about you hurting me Jeral. Minsc and Boo have watched you fight. You have spirit, however you have much to learn about fighting."

Jeral looked at the large man with a glare and the ranger surprised him by responding quickly. "Do not be sad little Jeral. You shoot arrows very well, as well as Minsc in fact. We can teach you the way of the warrior in close combat as well. Although at some point you need a bigger sword. Where I come from only children wield swords of such a tiny size." Smiling tightly Jeral stood and faced the large man. The pair stood and saluted one another before they began.

Jeral lunged in to stab at the ranger's stomach. Minsc blocked the blow easily and slid to the right away from Jeral's sword arm. Reversing his grip Minsc slashed out with a sweeping horizontal swing. Jeral threw himself backwards and watched as the padded weapon grazed his tunic. Struggling to regain his balance Jeral dodged from side to side as Minsc pressed his advantage home. Jeral threw himself forward and tucked into a forward roll. From his knees he slashed at the ranger's left knee. The big man deftly raised his leg up and watched as the weapon swung helplessly under his foot. Switching his balance Minsc smashed his leg down and pinned Jeral's weapon to the ground. Swinging his sword downward he smashed it into Jeral's side and smashed the man into the side of the barn.

Jeral struggled to his feet eyed the ranger wearily. Wiping the sweat from his brow Jeral smiled at the ranger. "I thank you for the lesson my friend. That is enough for today."

Walking back inside Jeral shook his head in despair.

_There is no way I can avenge Gorion's death unless I get much better with a blade._

Gorion's killer was more than a match for Minsc and Jeral was not a match for him at this rate. Jeral was awake for a long time thinking on that before sleep finally brought him peace.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17 – Damsel in distress? – Day 30

First light found the five on the road heading north from Beregost in search of the bandit camp. Ajantis proudly showed off his new great shield. He had purchased it from the Thunderhammer Smithy in Beregost. The shield was lightly enchanted to provide additional protection in melee combat. Due to the great size of the shield as well as some additional enchantments it was incredibly effective against missile weapons.

Combined with the paladin's enchanted boots, enchanted bracers, and ankheg plate mail the Helmite was now almost impervious to missile weapons; and well protected from all other threats.

Dynaheir contentedly read through her spell book organizing her new spells. She had purchased quite a few spells using her funds as well as those from her ranger companion. Minsc stated that he needed very little so long as he had hamster food and a witch to protect. For her part Imoen gleefully carried her new enchanted short bow and wore a garish necklace of large pearls with an inlay of gold and silver.

Jeral still carried a purse heavy with coin as he could yet afford an enchanted long bow or another wand. His purchases the previous days left him over 500 gold on hand. As had become standard while on the march, Ajantis led the way, Minsc prowled in the woods switching back from one flank to the other and Jeral brought up the rear covering all with his long bow. Imoen and Dynaheir remained in the middle of the column enjoying their walk north.

The party followed the road and reached the Friendly Arm Inn by early afternoon. They encountered little traffic on the road. Casual travelers feared attack from the bandits that prowled the woods; so only heavily protected merchant caravans braved the roads of late. The party reserved three rooms for the evening. Imoen and Dynaheir shared a room. Jeral volunteered to room with Minsc, leaving Ajantis the luxury of some privacy for the evening. After a simple dinner of venison stew and a very nice ale the party retired to their rooms for some badly needed rest. On the morrow they would resuming their search for the bandit camp.

Day 31

Based on a suggestion from Bently Mirrorshade the party left the road and set off north east through the forests. The woods got progressively thicker and thicker as Ajantis followed a narrow winding game trail deeper into the woods. The entire group realized that they were entering an area regularly patrolled by ruthless bandits and that success or death were the only likely outcomes from their current course of action. Dynaheir carried her wand of missiles at the ready while Imoen held her new bow with an arrow in her off hand. The pair's reverie on the trail from previous days was not in evidence today. The group moved in silence, making an attempt to be as quiet as possible. The sun slowly rose in the sky as the morning gave way to mid day.

The quiet of the forest was shattered by a woman's scream. The piercing shriek caused birds to take flight from every tree in view as the party quickly readied their weapons. The sound of someone crashing through the undergrowth drew the group's attention as the sound quickly approached. Jeral knocked an arrow and waited for a clear target.

The arrow never left his bow.

"Help me! If you don't help me they'll kill me" The party watched as a cloaked woman emerged between a pair of trees. Clad in dark chain main and holding a mace and small shield the woman was of average height, thin, and quite shapely.

Jeral and Ajantis quickly moved forward and stood in front of the woman. Smiling Ajantis spoke as calmly as he could. "Calm down good lady. We will help you, do not fear. Just tell us who you are. Who is trying to kill you?"

She bent forward slightly and took a few deep breaths to compose herself. She quickly straightened up and spoke in a melodious, almost sultry, voice. The fearful, helpless victim voice was no longer in evidence.

"My name is Viconia. Safe to say I am not from around here. I thank you so much for helping."

She pulled back her hood to reveal dark skin of an inky blue/black hue and long shimmering silky white hair that hung down to just past her shoulders.

Jeral sucked in his breath while he realized he was looking at a dark elf – a very beautiful dark elf, but still a dark elf. Jeral recalled from his studies that the drow are an evil race noted for their brutality, treachery, and dedication to the spider goddess Lloth.

"Step away Jeral. I must deal with this foul creature before we are all overcome!" Jeral looked over to see Ajantis drawing his long sword. Jeral stepped between the paladin and the drow and placed a firm hand on the paladin's sword arm.

"Hold on Ajantis. We know nothing about her; let's not rush to judge. She appears to be alone."

"Fool! Do not interfere. She is drow and as such must be destroyed in the name of Helm! All worshippers of the spider queen must die!" Ajantis was shaking with rage and straining to draw his sword. Jeral tightened his grasp on the paladin's arm and leaned forward, matching the larger man him strength for strength, and refused to move. The two men glared at one another and Ajantis struggled to draw his sword.

"The archer is not the fool Helmite, you are," Viconia sneered at the enraged Ajantis, every word dripping with disdain. I am no longer a follower of the spider queen. I am exiled from my home and my people. I merely wish to make my own way on the surface and build a new life. I am sure that your watcher God can see as much himself."

"Do not speak of my God fowl creature!"

Smiling sweetly she stared directly at the paladin and twirled her mace in an intricate series of combat forms, the likes of which Jeral had never seen before. "I have no cause to quarrel with you pious one, however I will grant your wish for death should you so choose. Viconia DeVir retreats from no pathetic male and is not easily overcome."

"STOP IT!" Dynaheir's shout startled all the parties into staring at her. Pointing at the paladin she continued. "We are after the bandits threatening the countryside. We are moving farther and farther away from the temple at the Friendly Arm Inn. And we have need of a healer. Look at her. She is clearly a cleric, and as such could aid us in our quest. At a time such as this you must focus on the greater good and our commitments to aid the people against this menace!"

"Who do you follow if not Lloth?"

"For now just know I follow another." Dynaheir nodded in reluctant acceptance at the drow's response.

"Boo says the pretty dark one will be a good companion. Dynaheir is as smart as Boo to see that she can help us overcome evil in these lands." Dynaheir grimaced at the comment but maintained her fierce glare at Ajantis.

Ajantis nodded and reluctantly let go of his sword hilt. Shaking off Jeral's restraining hand he turned to face the drow. Glaring at Viconia he spoke through gritted teeth as he pointed a gauntleted finger in front of her face.

"Very well, she may join un for now in order to aid the greater good. But know this fiend. I am watching you for any signs of evil. And once we dispose of the bandits we will reconsider this unholy alliance."

The sounds of sticks breaking and leaves rustling drew everyone's attention back to the tree line where they first viewed the drow cleric.

"Ahhhhhh, here comes my pursuer," purred Viconia "how the tables have turned." Bursting from the woods came a plate clad man walking quickly and deliberately towards Viconia. He wore the scarlet and gold livery of the Flaming Fist and carried a long sword and shield at the ready.

"I am the law! Step aside travelers. I am a member of the Flaming Fist. The woman you are harboring is wanted for murder of the foulest sort. She is a dark elf; it should be obvious that she is evil."

"He lies, I've done nothing wrong!" cried Viconia, using what Jeral had already labeled as her helpless voice again.

Jeral stepped in front on Viconia and glared at the Flaming Fist mercenary. "What do you intend to do once you have her?"

"Why kill her, of course."

"We cannot allow that. Is there no other way?"

"Enough talk, for harboring a murderer I sentence you to death! All of you!"

Undeterred by his clear numerical disadvantage the Flaming Fist mercenary attacked.

He slashed at Jeral, forcing the bard to roll out of the way. Minsc waded in and started dueling with the plate clad mercenary. Ajantis hung back, clearly ambivalent about fighting a representative of the Baldur's Gate militia to aid the drow. Imoen and Dynaheir also hung back worried that their missile weapons would accidently strike the large ranger. Leaving his long bow on the ground Jeral drew his whistling short sword and charged the mercenary. He and Minsc slowly forced the mercenary on the defensive as he focused on defending himself against a two handed great sword and an enchanted short sword.

This keen focus allowed the mercenary to parry each and every attack from the two. However, that same focus ensured that the mercenary lost complete track of Viconia. The drow calmly circled around behind the mercenary and struck him with her mace between his shoulder blades. The rusty mace shattered against the place armor as the mercenary whirled around to face the new threat.

"Now you die foul temptress!" The mercenary swung at Viconia and she managed to push the blow to the side with her small shield. Jeral stabbed up through the lightly protected shoulder joint and was rewarded as his sword sank in, almost to the hilt. He quickly pulled the blade back out and a geyser of blight red blood pulsed out in waves. The mercenary groaned and fell to his knees as his life blood poured out onto the forest floor. With one last gasp he released his sword and fell forward onto his stomach. Jeral watched impassively as the flow of blood slowed to a trickle and then stopped entirely as the man died on the ground.

Viconia nodded quickly to Minsc and Jeral. "I thank you both for your assistance. As the mage noticed, I am a cleric of no small skill. Seeing as I find myself in dangerous and unfamiliar lands without allies I have need of your assistance. Therefore, I, Viconia the last of the great House DeVir, offer my services to you archer for as long as you will have them."

Smiling Jeral nodded his acceptance of the offer. I welcome you to join with us Viconia of House DeVir, I am Jeral. This is my sister Imoen, the lady Dynaheir, her protector Minsc and his furry friend Boo. And the unhappy looking gentleman over there is Ajantis, a squire in service of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart. Viconia made eye contact with each in turn before speaking again.

"It is a pleasure to meet most of you. I am very pleased to see members of the stronger sex amongst you. I trust that Imoen, Dynaheir and I can keep you lowly males from making too many errors. So why are you wandering deep in the woods anyway? From what little I have learned roaming these lands, there is a band of bandits making their home in the woods somewhere to the northeast."

"If you must know drow, we are searching for that very bandit camp to put an end to the raids plaguing these lands."

"Well that is very well and noble Helmite. And exactly how did the five of you expect to take out an entire camp of what are likely well organized, heavily armed bandits?" Smugly the paladin twisted his handsome face into a scowl and sneered at the drow, "do not worry drow, Helm shall provide."

"Ahhhh so Helm shall provide. I have heard much about the watcher God. He is one of the most powerful surface Gods. I cannot wait to see his will aid this venture."

"Speak not of my God, fiend!"

"Eh, you bore me Helmite." Turning she fixed Jeral with a stern gaze.

"Archer, you lead this party, do you not? I have pledged my service to you and this group; keep your pet squire in line." Viconia turned with a sneer to face the paladin, "And I will only say this once more fool so listen well. I no longer worship the Spider Queen. I willingly cast aside my faith, rejected the Spider Queen and fled from her realm. I now follow the Lady of Loss."

"A Sharran priestess! That is little different than serving as a devotee of Lloth!"

"Enough! She is right Ajantis. We need her assistance if we hope to defeat the bandits and survive. So you must put aside your hatred for her race and judge her on her actions alone. Just pretend she is Drizzit."

"Jeral, I do not believe there are any drow who are not consumed by evil and I for one do not believe that this Drizzit even exists. A heroic drow doing good deeds? Why the entire idea is preposterous."

"Ajantis, regardless of how you feel she will be with us for a while; and as for Drizzit many of his adventures are well chronicled and corroborated from reputable sources. When next we are in Candlekeep I will show you the tomes personally."

Ajantis shook his head angrily, took a deep breath, and stared at the ground for a long time. Jeral was starting to wonder if the paladin had fallen asleep when he finally spoke.

"Very well Jeral. It is true we need allies, and we have need of a healer as well if we are to overcome the dangers ahead. I will reluctantly agree to this temporary alliance. But understand this, all of you. When the bandit threat is ended we will continue this discussion and you may not like where it leads."

Shouldering his way past Jeral he resumed his position at the head of the group and continued deep into the woods.

"I apologize for the squire's behavior. His thinking can be quite rigid at times."

"I thank you all for your assistance. I am generally capable of protecting myself, however I am still learning about your surface ways and dangers. And right now I find myself in an unfamiliar area without a weapon." Viconia held up her mace handle and tossed it disdainfully into the underbrush. "Your surface arms and armors are pathetic."

Smiling Jeral lowered his pack and started rummaging through it. "I have been carrying this since we took it off an evil cleric. That should make it a perfect fit for you if Ajantis is right about you." Smiling Jeral tossed the war hammer to Viconia. She deftly snatched it out of the air and took a few practice swings.

"To a drow the greatest gift is one taken by force or guile, not something freely given. Therefore, I prefer a weapon that I take from my enemies, and not one handed to me. However, given my current predicament I will accept and put this weapon to good use until I find something more suitable and appropriately gained."

"I supposed that is what passed for thanks among the drow so I will let the lack of gratitude pass. By the way the weapon is heavily enchanted and shocks any it strikes." Viconia smiled and strode off after the paladin taking practice swings with the weapon as she walked. Dynaheir and Imoen fell in behind the drow and Jeral resumed his position bringing up the back of the line.

Jeral walked along and spent some time pondering his new ally. Jeral was as familiar with the drow as any surfacer could be. The great library of Candlekeep had some dozen tomes on the dark elves, which was more than any other known collection in the realms. In each and every book the author focused on the darkness of the drow and their blood lust for power. Gorion also regaled Jeral with tales of Drizzit the drow ranger when he was little so apparently the drow had the capability for good, even if only in rare cases.

As Jeral walked he took in the drow. She was taller than Dynaheir and Imoen but smaller framed than both. She had the lithe graceful lines of an elf and from Jeral's view she had curves in all the right places. She was not a rogue but she walked as smoothly as Imoen, with her feet making almost no sound on the forest floor. Jeral could not help himself, he was definitely intrigued by the newcomer and recognized that could cause issues with Ajantis down the road.

The twang of multiple bow strings shocked Jeral out of his day dreaming. He looked up and saw about a half dozen bandits attacking Ajantis. Jeral knocked an arrow and took a snap shot at one of the bandits. Jeral smiled grimly as his arrow buried into the bandit's chest and he crumpled to the ground. Minsc roared out of the underbrush and joined Ajantis in close combat with their enemies. Minsc and Ajantis were holding their own.

Even though the two warriors were outnumbered they were able to cut through the leather clad bandits with ease, relying on their heavier armor and greater skill at arms. Before Viconia and Jeral could close with the bandits Ajantis and Minsc were standing over a pile of bloody corpses with nary a scratch between the two.

Imoen looted the bodies and found a handful of gold coins and little else of value. "Well we got a little gold and we can restock our arrows but nothing else interesting. So what is all the fuss about a bandit menace? These guys do not seem so tough."

"They are likely just new recruits and weaker members of the group. I would expect that the stronger bandits are either out raiding caravans or patrolling closer to the camp. As we get closer I suspect the enemy will get stronger."

"Boo says Dynaheir is very smart and we should be ready for more danger."

"Do not fear good ranger, Helm shall protect us on our noble quest." Ajantis cleaned his sword on a bandit's tunic and continued his way deeper into the woods. Sobered by the thought of more dangerous opponents the group spread out and moved forward quietly.

Late morning gave way to mid day and mid day yielded to afternoon. The party stopped only briefly to drink water from their skins and eat some dried meat and hard cheese.

"It's your choice which hits the ground first, your swords or your heads. Be smart now and you'll all live to grow wiser!"

A battle scarred, chain clad bandit swaggered his way towards Ajantis. Behind him a half dozen bandit archers drew down on the paladin. The lead bandit slowly drew his bastard sword and held it in a low guard position as he closed with Ajantis.

"By Helm I will drop my sword for no mere brigand."

"As you like it, fools! Your children be orphans tonight." Ajantis crossed swords with the brigand while Minsc charged the archers. All six bandits calmly aimed at the charging ranger and loosed arrows. Minsc staggered from arrows striking his leg, arm and stomach.

Roaring in rage Minsc shook off the strikes and closed with the leather clad bandits. His two handed sword tore through their ranks aided by arrows from Imoen and Jeral. Ajantis felled the lead bandit and quickly joined Minsc in close combat. The two heavily armed fighters soon dispatched the last bandits.

Minsc, breathing heavily, dropped his great blade and sat down heavily.

"Minsc must rest. Pointy arrows of evil make Minsc weak." Jeral watched as blood continued to seep out of his wounds. The arrow in the ranger's stomach clearly had done significant damage. With a moan Minsc slid to the ground and passed out. His hamster crawled out of the large man's pocket and sat on his chest squeaking sadly.

"Minsc! He is dying! We must stop the bleeding and heal him." Dynaheir raced to her companion and sat down cradling his head.

"Mage, I can save your male if you wish." Dynaheir looked up at Viconia through tear streaked eyes and nodded. "Then do so and quickly! Minsc must live." Viconia stepped up and knelt down by the ranger and started barking orders. "Helmite, thief, you two watch for other bandits while I tend to this unwashed mountain of a man. Archer come here. When I command it remove one arrow at a time." Jeral quickly came over and squatted next to the cleric.

"You must pull the arrows out one at a time when told to do so. You cannot push them through since they are sitting on bone. If the one in his stomach is pushed out his back it would likely kill him. After you rip one out I will close that wound. We will then move onto the next wound. The stomach wound is the one that will kill him if left unattended so we will start with that one."

Jeral grasped the shaft of the arrow as close to the wound as possible and looked at Viconia. She nodded and Jeral pulled the arrow smoothly out of the ranger's body. Blood, muscle and bits of intestine clung to the arrow head as it tore out of the man's body with a sucking sound. With the arrow removed the blood streamed out of the wound more quickly. Viconia spread her hands over the wound and started chanting under her breath, invoking the power of Shar.

A dark purple haze emanated from her hands and spread over the wound. Jeral watched in amazement as the injured muscle knitted together before his eyes, followed by the skin. When the cleric was done a pale patch of skin was the only evidence of any wound to the ranger's torso. Color also returned to the ranger's face and his chest slowly rose and fell.

"My protector lives. You have my thanks Viconia." Nodding wearily the drow directed Jeral to remove the arrow in his leg followed by the one in his shoulder. After she healed the other two wounds she stood and stretched. "The large one will be fine. He needs sleep, as do I. We can move no further today so make camp here. Archer, I require food and rest. So prepare a meal so I can restore my strength before I sleep."

Putting a hand up to stifle a protest from Ajantis Jeral replied with a chuckle. "Camping here makes a lot of sense. We would have a hard time moving Minsc anywhere ourselves. Ajantis will you take the watch while Imoen and I gather firewood and prepare dinner? Dynaheir, please go through my pack and find suitable bedding for Viconia."

The paladin nodded grimly and stalked off into the woods while Dynaheir dug through Jeral's pack. Imoen and Jeral worked to start a small campfire and prepare a meal. Once the stew was cooking Imoen and Dynaheir walked around the perimeter of the camp. As they walked Dynaheir set up minor warning cantrips while Imoen set some crude snares.

"Well done you two. Those should help warn us should another enemy approach." Both women nodded appreciatively at Jeral as he continued to make dinner. Once dinner was prepared Jeral ladled out bowls of stew to Dynaheir, Imoen and Viconia. He prepared two additional bowls for himself and Ajantis and set off in search of the paladin. He found Ajantis about 30 yards from the camp perched on a large rock. He was polishing his sword with a rag.

Jeral walked up to stand next to the paladin and wordlessly handed him a bowl and spoon. "Better get it while it is warm. I make pretty good stew but it tastes terrible cold." Ajantis nodded grimly and started eating. Jeral started on his stew and the two men ate in silence. Once finished Ajantis handed the bowl back to Jeral and resumed polishing his sword.

"I thank you for the meal Jeral. And know that I have thought deeply about your words and I prayed on it. Viconia must leave the group as soon as we have vanquished the bandits, else I will kill her. There is no other option. Merely being in her presence may pull me away from my faith. I cannot take such a chance."

A number of responses raced through Jeral's mind and they ranged from sarcastic to deep and philosophical. None seemed appropriate. Instead he patted the paladin on the shoulder and walked away.

Before he was out of earshot Jeral called out "If we live through the morrow we can discuss her fate at that time. You have first watch. Wake me for my shift."


	18. Chapter 18

_I always love the attack on the Bandit Camp. So much fun._

Chapter 18 – The Raid - Day 32

The sun was just starting to show over the horizon as the group slowly crept forward. The grass was wet with morning dew and muffled their steps as they moved forward guided by Jeral.

"Ok, the camp is a couple hundred yards ahead of us. We are going to enter on the eastern edge of the camp. I watched a large contingent of about 50 bandits depart, presumably to raid more caravans and establish ambushes on the main road. Based on the number of huts and buildings in the camp I think that there are probably no more than two or three dozen bandits left. Most of the bandits are human but there are a group of hobgoblins known as the Chill and a tribe of gnolls penned up in a cave on the North side of the camp."

Minsc visibly tensed at the mention of the Gnolls. Dynaheir patted the man on his forearm and the large man quickly calmed down from her touch. "Remain calm my protector, I suspect you will have opportunity enough very soon to meet your enemy."

Jeral smiled and bowed towards the ranger's witch.

"Dynaheir, your invisibility spell worked perfectly. I was able to get up nice and close and no one was any the wiser as I strolled through that camp. So long as I moved slowly and quietly I was able to walk the entire length of the camp."

The mage nodded and smiled tightly. "Of course it worked perfectly, I cast the spell."

"That is all interesting news archer but we are only six, so two or three dozen is still a number that should cause some concern. The mage lacks spells to conceal us all and we will need surprise to have any hope in overcoming the threat ahead."

"Jeral, I hate to say it but the drow is correct, we must have a plan. Minsc and I cannot just lead a charge into the camp, for that would be a slaughter."

"I agree with both of you. The best plan is often the easiest. I think we will need to start at one edge of the camp and slowly move through and do our best to kill everyone we see before they can raise the alarm. If we do it right we can deal with the bandits in small manageable groups before they can overwhelm us with sheer numbers. Failing that we can set fire to some of the buildings and escape in the confusion. It has not rained in a few days so the huts should burn readily."

"Jeral, that is not acceptable, our enemies must be afforded the opportunity to surrender, to do any less would be unchivalrous."

Jeral could only shake his head in frustration. Fortunately for all Viconia had the common sense to remain silent although she did make eye contact with Jeral and raise a thin white eyebrow in disdain.

"Ajantis, I understand your concern for your code of chivalry, your Order is renowned for it. However, you must consider the situation. We are far from any assistance and we are few against many. If we fight fair then we die, and the bandits will continue their raids unchecked. We will do what we can to respect your code but if there comes a time we have to break it we will. Now be quiet and follow me. Imoen and I will lead the way and we will take as many out as we can quietly with our bows."

Imoen and Jeral readied their bows and led the party into the camp. They paused at the tree line and peered out into the camp. Smoke drifted up from a number of different huts and open cook fires. A lone bandit walked the perimeter of the camp with a short bow slung over his back, he whistled merrily as he strolled along.

Imoen snorted, "Well that guy is hardly alert. Seems almost a shame to kill him"

"Shame of not there is no other way, besides he would not hesitate of the roles were reversed. You ready? I do not see any other sentries on this side of the camp so let's do this. On three. One, two, three."

Two bow strings thrummed in near harmony as Imoen and Jeral fired at the bandit sentry. Jeral's arrow struck low in his stomach while Imoen's arrow tore into his throat and ripped out the back to bury itself in a tree. With a moan he collapsed to the ground and lay still.

"Nice shot sis." Imoen merely winked in reply and kept searching for more targets. A second sentry rounded into view walking casually between a pair of tents. The siblings tracked their target and allowed him to continue getting closer. The sentry tensed up as he spotted his colleague crumpled on the ground. The blood and arrow shafts showed that the man was killed by a threat to the bandit camp. The man turned on his heel and started running.

"Imoen, NOW!"

Jeral and Imoen shot at the same time again. This time with a moving target Imoen's arrow flew wide of its target while Jeral's struck the man in the middle of his back. Howling in pain he stumbled to the ground and struggled to rise, shouting in panic as he did so.

"To me boys! We are under attack!" The last words were cut short as two more arrows struck into his back. With a moan the second sentry fell to the ground.

"Well so much for surprise. We had best make ready."

"I may have something to assist Jeral." Dynaheir started chanting and uttered a few arcane words of power. As she completed the spell everyone in the party felt a tingling sensation throughout their body."

_So that is a haste spell_, mused Jeral. _I need to have her teach me that one._

A large plate clad man rounded into view. Jeral sucked in his breath when he took a look at the mountain of a man. He was of a size with Minsc if not larger. He was clad is a suit of well made full plate mail. He wore a closed faced helm atop his head and carried a shield strapped to his right arm. In his left hand he carried a silver war hammer. Unlike a traditional two headed war hammer this man's weapon had a hammer on the front face and a large spike on the back of the hammer. With nary a glance he stepped over the dead sentry and pointed at the party.

_We may be in real trouble here_, Jeral shook the negative voice from his head and started firing arrows at the leather clad bandits.

"There be our guests boys. Tazok said we might have company. Looks like they have some fine looking ladies with them as well. Kill the men. We can have some fun with the ladies when this little scrap is done. All the glory will belong to the Black Talon, those dogs in the Chill clan will just have to miss out on this fun." The plate clad warrior strode confidently forward and was overtaken by a dozen leather clad bandits while four more bandits wielding long bows stood behind him preparing to fire.

Ajantis and Minsc sprinted towards the enemy. With their magically enhanced speed they reached the bandits far faster than they could have normally. Two of the bandits fell to their blades before the enemy could overcome their surprise. The two fighters were quickly encircled but they just stood back to back and fought valiantly against their attackers. The two men were cutting a bloody swath against their lightly armored opposition.

Imoen and Jeral were firing as fast as they could draw, aim, and loose. Dynaheir prepared to cast another spell as Viconia stood in front of her protectively. As she completed the spell a faint mist floated from her hands and settled over the four enemy archers. As one they collapsed to the ground in a deep slumber. With the archers temporarily out of the fight Jeral laid his bow on the ground, drew his short sword and moved forward to assist Minsc and Ajantis. To his surprise Viconia raced ahead of him twirling her war hammer in an intricate pattern as she approached the melee and aimed for the plate clad man. Jeral headed towards the leather clad bandits to assist Minsc in his battle. Viconia nimbly ducked under the swing from one bandit's blade and struck out with a sweeping upward swing. Her hammer connected with the man's chin and he dropped to the ground to the sound of shattering bone.

Grinning evilly Viconia stepped past another of the lightly armed bandits and attacked the plate clad warrior. He was dueling with Ajantis and was slow to notice her approach. Her first blow landed on his side with a resounding clang as the hammer slammed into his plate armor. Grunting in pain the big man punched out with his shield and knocked Viconia back on her heels. He turned to face the dark elf. "I love a woman with fire. Makes it all the more fun when Tenhammer takes you and breaks you."

"You will fall surfacer. And you would not survive our coupling. So be silent dog. There is nothing one like you can say. Be quiet and die you foul blowhard!" Viconia twirled her war hammer and waited for an opening. While he was focused on Viconia Ajantis stood behind the large man. Unwilling to attack a man when his back was turned Ajantis was determined to get him to turn around.

"Prepare to meet thy doom heathen. I am Ajantis, paladin of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart and I challenge you to a duel."

With a deep rumbling laugh the plate clad bandit turned and stared at the paladin.

"A duel? What do you think this is boy, a tourney field?"

"One must fight with honor else the victory is meaningless."

"Fool! One must fight to win else they die!"

Tenhammer swung at Ajantis and the paladin blocked the blow with his shield. The force of the blow still staggered him back. Tenhammer quickly struck again and slammed his hammer into the Helmite's shield. A third blow in rapid succession struck Ajantis on his sword arm and his enchanted blade fell to the ground.

"How do you like your duel so far boy? Shall I wait while you recover and reclaim your blade? That would be the honorable thing to do. I think not." He stepped forward and swung out with his hammer, catching Ajantis full in the chest. The paladin was knocked off his feet and lay helpless on the ground as he struggled to breathe and recover from the vicious strike. The large bandit tossed his shield aside and gripped his war hammer in a two handed grip as he raised it overhead in preparation for a killing blow.

"Time to die honorable one."

"Not quite surfacer." Viconia sent a looping underhand swing of her hammer into the big man's right knee. Her hammer slammed into the knee joint and an electric jolt ran through his armor. Howling in pain Tenhammer quickly spun around swinging his hammer in front of him. Quicker than Jeral thought possible Viconia dropped to her knees and the hammer strike swung helplessly over her head. Standing quickly she jabbed her hammer into the bandit's closed faced helm. The face of his helm folded in and blood started pouring out of the breathing slits on his helm.

Shaking his head to clear his vision the bandit struck again at Viconia. She leaned back and the hammer swing missed her by a hair's breath. Leaping in the air she struck against his helm once and then again. The second strike caused an audible crack and his head leaned to the side in an unnatural position. Viconia landed and crouched in a defensive position awaiting the next strike. Instead, she watched as the large man fall face forward onto the ground and lay still.

Viconia stepped forward and pried the spiked war hammer from the dead man's hand. While Viconia claimed her prize Minsc and Jeral, aided by Dynaheir and Imoen, finished off the last of the lightly armored bandits.

Viconia turned the weapon over in her hands and caressed it lovingly. "This is a weapon worthy of a drow. It is enchanted, deadly, and won in battle."

"Archer, thank you for the loan of this weapon but I no longer have need of it." She tossed the enchanted hammer taken from Bassilus back to Jeral and twirled the new weapon to get a feel for the balance. Glancing over at the paladin Viconia walked over to where they four bandit archers lay sleeping. Putting the spiked end of her new weapon to good use she ensured that none of the four would ever wake up.

Jeral walked over to Ajantis and reached out his hand to the downed paladin. Grudgingly he grasped Jeral's arm and laboriously pulled himself up. Once on his feet he uncorked and drank one healing potion and then a second. "Eh, I shall live. I will be hard pressed to fight for some time. My ribs and chest feel like they were crushed by a giant."

"Want Viconia to take a look at your injuries?"

"I would rather die that have that foul creature touch me."

"Trust me male, touching an unwashed surfacer such as you is not high on my list either."

"Ok that is enough out of both of you, we must move forward. Ajantis remain here and guard our escape route. If we get into a larger fight than we can manage we will need to run for it."

The paladin nodded and leaned wearily against a tree. The rest of the group dropped their packs and field gear next to him and moved deeper into the bandit camp. With Ajantis out of action Jeral and Minsc led the way with Dynaheir and Viconia in the second rank and Imoen bringing up the rear. Minsc drank a healing potion as they walked and the minor wounds he had recently received closed up quickly.

The five cautiously walked deeper into the bandit camp. A couple dozen large huts were visible in the clearing. They were poorly constructed and looked like they would topple in a stiff wind. As the party continued forward they stopped in front of the largest structure in the center of the camp. The building stood out from all the others, for it was well constructed and sat on a raised wooden platform. It was clearly the bandit camp headquarters.

Jeral looked at his companions. "I am sure this building is occupied so we should make ready. Any more spells that can help us Dynaheir?"

"Unfortunately not. I only have a few combat spells remaining and one personal defensive spell. Nothing else."

"Oy! Why are you lot not out on patrol? Only Black Talon are left to guard the camp and you lot are not part of Tenhammer's crew."

A thin man wearing worn leathers approached the group trailed by three others in similar attire.

Jeral sneered and tilted his head in the direction of the large building.

"Me gang was told to report for a special mission."

"Special mission hunh? What kind of mission?"

"How should I know? We have yet to report to the boss."

"Well do not let me stop ye." The man stopped to spit at Jeral's feet and scratch himself.

"We will wait here and see how it goes."

Unwilling to leave a threat at their rear before they entered the headquarters Jeral realized that the four had to be eliminated quietly. Jeral quickly drew an arrow and fired at the lead man. At point blank range he could not miss and his arrow buried deep into the man's chest. Looking confused he fell to the ground. The other three quickly drew their swords but they were no match for Minsc and Viconia. By the time Jeral could ready a second arrow all three of the other bandit guards were dead on the ground.

"Ok, we have no chance at surprise now; a deaf man could have heard the sounds of that fight. Make ready as best you can for speed is now our best ally."

Jeral dropped his bow on the ground and drew his sword. Dynaheir chanted a few words of power and 4 witches appeared where only one stood before. Viconia quickly muttered a few words to Shar and then shivered as the favor of her Goddess washed over her.

"Everyone ready? Right. Follow me."

Jeral grasped the door handle and pulled. The door did not move. Jeral sheathed his sword, drasped the door handle with two hands and pulled with all his might. The door did not move at all. Red faced, Jeral just stared dumbly at the door as his face turned beet red with embarrassment.

"Please move Jeral. Opening doors is what Minsc does very well."

Nodding glumly Jeral drew his sword and stood to the side. Minsc took two steps backwards, and then rumbled forward. His armored shoulder struck the door and it gave way immediately with a loud crack as wood splinters flew everywhere. Minsc tore through the shattered door and roared a battle cry as he entered the room beyond.

Jeral heard the sounds of combat as he raced in after the ranger. He entered into a large room with tapestries on the walls, clearly the headquarters of the bandit camp. There were four facing off against Minsc and Jeral. A quick glace at their clothes, equipment and bearing showed that these opponents were no mere bandits. A large gnoll was wielding a halberd and was already dueling with Minsc as the ranger roared and frothed in rage. For an instand Jeral wondered if Minsc was more of a beast than the gnoll he dueled against. Jeral saw a splint clad bandit draw a wicked looking bastard sword and move towards him. Smiling grimly Jeral spied a glint of gold in the man's mouth. Off to his left Jeral saw a mage preparing a spell. The fourth opponent was on the far side of the room bathed in shadows.

"Dynaheir, Imoen, the mage!"

He could not see what happened to the mage as he refocused on his immediate threat. Jeral leaned to his right and the bastard sword sliced through the air mere inches from his head. Jeral jabbed out with his sword and watched in frustration as it was pushed aside as the man quickly snapped his large blade back to parry the thrust.

Jeral was forced back as his gold toothed opponest slashed and hacked at Jeral with his bastard sword. Jeral found himself twisting time and time again to avoid the man's attacks as he waited for an opening.

ZING.

Jeral saw something flying towards his head and flung himself to the ground. An arrow fired from the fourth bandit, a hobgoblin wielding an ornate long bow, sliced Jeral's cheek open down to the bone. Jeral had no time to recover as the bastard sword sliced down again. Jeral crab walked backwards on the floor as the man's attack splintered the floor inches in front of the retreating bard. Jeral struggled to his feet and stood unsteadlily. His vision started to cloud as his body was wracked with pain. His short sword slipped from his rapidly weakening grip as he struggled to remain on his feet.

Jeral dropped to a knee and watched his attacker advance on him. Helpless to defend himself Jeral could only watch as the man swung his blade in a killing stroke.

A spray of blood drenched Jeral's face and he collapsed screaming in fear and pain. His back arched as spasms of pain roared through his body. His opponent forgotten, Jeral realized he was dying, likely poisoned by the arrow that had sliced into his face. Strong hands pinned him down to the floor. He struggled weakly against them as water was poured over his face. He looked up to see Imoen cradling his head. Jeral struggled to speak; "poison" was all he could force out through his chattering teeth.

Imoen looked around wildly. "Does anyone have any poison antidotes? I just purchased healing potions at the temple."

"Well give him that, for it is better than nothing." Imoen nodded at Dynaheir, unstopped a vial, and poured the blue liquid into Jeral's mouth. Coughing he swallowed most of it down and the pain was forced back somewhat but did not disappear. Fumbling at his pouch he found one of his own healing potions and drank that down as well. Jeral could still feel the pain waiting to return and knew he was merely postponing the inevitable.

"Does this male hold some value to you, Imoen?"

"Of course he does Viconia. He is my brother."

Signing heavily, the drow nodded and knealt down next to Jeral. She commanded Minsc to hold him still. She started chanting and placed her hands directly in the wound. She shuddered once and Jeral felt the pain disappear from his body. The poison was no longer there! Viconia grabbed his head and forced it to one side and then the other.

"For a surface you are not unattractive. I should likely mend your face; else you will be too unattractive to bear."

Viconia grabbed both sides of Jeral's torn cheek and forced them painfully together. Chanting a different invocation she quickly fused the torn skin together. Wiping her bloody hands on Jeral's tunic she smoothly got to her feet and reclaimed her war hammer.

Jeral slowly sat up and quickly scanned the room. The enemy mage lay dead on the ground, 3 arrows sticking from his body and scortch marks on his chest indicating his causes of death.

His own opponent lay headless on the ground, clearly decapitated from a blow from Minsc. The gnoll also lay on the ground in a spreading pool of blood. Jeral determined from the position of the bodies that Minsc had left his opponent to save Jeral and then returned to defeat the gnoll. In looking over at Minsc Jeral could see that he had paid for his heroic action. Minsc leaned against the wall bleeding from a number of wounds. Jeral watched as he downed the last of his healing potions. Confident that Minsc would live Jeral smiled and slowly pushed himself back upright.

He watched quietly as the drow walked over to where the hobgoblin archer was standing immobile, clearly held from magic from either the arcane or divine schools. Viconia calmly drew out one of the arrows and sniffed the tip.

"Spider venom, very dangerous and quite deadly. I thought that smelled familiar. Now that reminds me of home."

She slowly traced the arrow across the creature's face leaving a thin line of blood behind.

Speaking to no one in particular Viconia continued.

"The drow are known for their use of poison, and I always considered myself an expert at its use. It offends me when lesser creatures use tools better left to their betters."

She took a second arrow out, sniffed it and drew it across the hobgoblin's exposed throat. This time the cut was deeper and the line of blood it left behind thicker. She stepped back and watched as the poison started to trace blue lines away from the wounds and it entered his blood stream. Held immobile as he was, the only indication of his struggle was the changing color of his skin and the rapid dilation of his pupils. After less than a minute the creature was dead and only the enchantments around him kept him on his feet. Viconia snapped her fingers, the spell was broken, and the creature collapsed to the floor.

"Remind me to never anger a drow, even one as fetching as you my dear."

Though she would deny it to her dying day Viconia actually jumped in surprise and looked startled as a voice carried from a darkened corner of the tent. Scowling Viconia hefted her war hammer and advanced towards the sound.

"Please, stay thy hand. I am no threat. I am a prisoner here. I believe that I can be of use to you for I know much of my captors and would be pleased to relate all I need in exchange for my freedom."

Jeral pulled a torch off the wall and walked towards the sound of the man's voice. He found a thin man clad only in tattered rags chained to the wall. Shackles encircled his ankles, wrist, throat and waist, pinning him upright on the wall. Throwing knives were embedded in the wall around his body. His lithe body showed signs of beatings and abuse. His face was covered in a scraggly beard and his hair was long and unkempt. Clearly he was not newly imprisoned.

"Target practice, how delightful" Viconia pulled one of the blades from the wall and tossed it to get a feel for its balance. Jeral stepped in front of Viconia and addressed the prisoner directly.

"Who are you and why are you here?"

"Well that is a bit of a story. Please free me and provide me a bit of water and I will share all I know."

"Very well. Imoen, would you mind?" Imoen trotted over and rummaged around in her small belt pouch. She located her tools and unrolled them on the ground as she started working on the locks.

"My dear, I suggest you use the number five with the chisel tip. Depress the spring inside the lock and then twist to the right and it should unlock, simple as can be."

Imoen frowned and started working on the first lock.

"Uh, if I may make a suggestion my dear, please free my hands first and then I may assist on the other locks."

Jeral chuckled to himself as he watched Imoen's ears redden. She hated it when someone talked down to her. The prisoner clearly sensed something was amiss for he sat still and silent until she had freed him from his chains.

"Ahhhhh, that is so much better. I am in your debt milady." He took a step away from the wall and squatted down and then jumped up and down, working the kinks out of his body. Jeral handed him a water skin and he took a long pull. He drank heavily and sighed contentedly.

"Right then, a bit of explanation is in order. First allow me to introduce myself. I am Endar Sai, a member in good standing of the theives guild in Baldur's Gate. You must be Jeral of Candlekeep."

"How do you know my name? And how does a thief in Baldur's Gate end up trapped by bandits in the Larswood well to the south of the city."

"Ahhhhh yes, well that does beg the question does it not. Larswood, I never would have guessed, very interesting. Well suffice it to say that I was tasked with some shall we say misdeeds involving the Iron Throne merchant consortium."

"You mean you were stealing from them." Dynaheir spoke scornfully.

"My dear lady, I prefer to think of it as merely a redistribution of wealth but that is not central to my tale. I was successful in my endeavors; however there was apparently a witness."

"Apparently?"

"Well I was taken unawares on the street the very next day. I was captured, drugged and brought here. I have not angered any others of note in some time. Therefore, one with the skill to capture me and the resources to spirit me to Larwwood must have significant resources. It has to be the Iron Throne. At some point during my transport I learned that they decided to send me to Tazok so he could make use of me. Killing me was apparently too easy."

"Why would a bandit leader have need of you?"

"Well modesty permits me from saying more, but suffice it to say that I am a rogue of more than some small skill. They have encouraged me to join in their cause here."

"Well judging from the knives in the wall you have refused."

"Yes and they were getting bored with me."

"So they were planning to kill you."

"Worse. They planned to send me to the mines to live out my days as a slave mining for ore."

"There were no slaves in the Nashkel mines."

"No you misunderstand me. There is a secret mine hidden deep in the Cloakwood Forest."

"You know this how male? It seems very convenient that your captors kept you here where you could learn so much."

Chuckling Endar eyed the drow warily. "It was not convenience my dear, it was arrogance. They believed that no one could stop them. The only concern they have surrounds your friend here."

He nodded at Jeral. "The bounty on Gorion's ward continues to rise and Tazok promised 700 gold to the man who brought him Jeral's head."

"Why are they concerned with me and how do you know of Gorion?"

"I do not know, the most recent scroll to Tazok indicated that he and Daevorn should be on the alert for you and your friends. The scroll referred to you as the ward of Gorion of Candlekeep and nothing else."

"And Tazon and Daevorn are?"

"Tazok is a massive half ogre, and the bandit leader. You just killed his lieutenants. Daevorn is master of the Cloakwood mines and a peer of Tazok. I am unclear if one works for the other for the two clearly share no affection for one another. Tazok left a few days ago but I do not know where he went."

"Master thief, do you have any evidence of any of this? Not that I doubt your word my good man."

Endar chuckled and wiggled his fingers. He picked up one of Imoen's lock picks and turned on his heel. He leaned over a heavy iron bound chest and started working on the lock.

This is my present to you. Tazok holds the only key and the chest is heavily trapped.

He continued to fiddle with the lock for another minute.

"There we go. And now it is free of traps, unlocked, and open." With a florish he tossed the chest open and bowed deeply. Imoen and Dynaheir searched through the chest while Jeral and Viconia searched the rest of the room.

Endar contented himself to stroll about the chamber and eat hungrily from the plates laid out on a side board and dress himself in some of the clothes stored in the wardrobes along the wall. Once his appetite was sated he strapped a short sword to his belt and collected a dozen of the throwing knives.

"The man speaks true Jeral; the documents here mirror what he said. There are also spell scrolls, a wand and potions here as well. Also a bag heavy with many thousands of gold."

"Great Imoen, take it all. We need to move quickly. I am surprised no one has come to investigate the sounds of combat from this tent."

"Fear not Jeral. This tent is warded to prevent sounds from going in or out. My captors encouraged me to scream and told me it would not be heard by others."

Jeral nodded and continued to search the room. The drow handed Jeral the longbow and quiver from the downed hobgoblin archer.

"This is a bow of some power archer. Also there are enchanted arrows here. Some of fire and some of ice. I will not permit you to use the poisoned ones for you are not drow and unworthy of spider venom."

"Fair enough, I have no taste for poisons." Jeral grabbed the long bow and tested the pull of the string. The power of the bow made his fingers tingle. Smiling he strapped the second quiver on his back and took the newly proffered bow.

"Ok everyone ready to move? Endar, you are welcome to join us for we head to the Friendly Arm Inn and then Beregost before we will enter the Cloakwood."

"You are too trusting to share your plans with a stranger. But I thank you and will gladly accompany you as far as the inn. Once there I will make my way back to Baldur's Gate" Endar made a final quick circuit of the room grabbing up a few items of clothing, food, a water skin and bandoleir for his knives before throwing it all into a pack to go over his shoulders.

The six warily exited the tent and saw that the camp was still. With not a living bandit in sight the group quickly retraced their steps and hurried to the woods on the eastern edge of the camp. There they saw Ajantis standing upright.

"Who is your new companion Jeral?"

"Don't worry about him right now; we need to get out of here. We have what we came to get."

"Are all the bandits dead?"

"No. We made it to the center of the camp, killed the leader's lieutenants and found the information we needed. We are leaving."

"We cannot leave. There is still evil here. We must end the threat to the countryside."

Dynaheir stepped forward and placed a hand on the paladin's armored forearm.

"Good squire. Your words ring true but consider this. With their leaders dead, their wealth taken, and the location of their camp known they are no longer a significant threat. We can inform the Flaming Fist of this location and they can come back in forces to ensure no one remains."

"Your words ring true my lady; I just do not like walking away from evil."

"You have little choice. You are injured and we are still few in numbers, even with our new companion." Turning she pointed at her companion. "Minsc, that man Tenhammer had excellent mail that can be made to fit you. Please take that as well as his shield for we can sell that for some coin."

Minsc nodded and started to strip the mail from the corpse and place it in a large burlap sack.

"Speaking of flaming, let's liven this place up a bit."

Jeral pulled out an enchanted fire arrow and drew back the newly acquired long bow. He aimed carefully and loosed a fire arrow. The red streak trailed across the sky and landed on the roof of the bandit headquarters. Smiling Jeral loosed another half dozen arrows at other huts across the tent. The dry buildings burst into flame and the flames soon spread to the remainder of the buildings. Dense black smoke billowed into the sky.

"That should keep everyone busy and discourage any pursuit."

"Very subtle archer. This secret base is secret no longer with that smoke cloud marking this location for all who would care to visit."

Viconia smirked and trudged off into the woods back towards the Friendly Arm Inn.

The group fell in behind her and slowly made their way South.


	19. Chapter 19: Preparation and Departures

Chapter 19 – Preparation and Departures - Day 33

_Happy 2015! Now that the holidays are finished I will try and get back on track. Plan is a chapter a week. We shall see._

_This is primarily a transition chapter and time to say farewell to a certain drow cleric. She is a great character but I always found her too weak to keep her around in BG1. But have no fear; she will definitely reappear down the road. I always thought she was integral in BG2. _

Jeral's lungs were on fire as he struggled to keep from taking a breath. Grimly he held on and held on until he could not take it anymore. He started seeing stars and knew he had mere seconds until he blacked out. He sat up quickly and surfaced taking a deep lungful of air as he did so.

"Seventy one seconds that time. Boo says that is more than even Minsc can do." Jeral smiled as he looked at the ranger and his furry companion. Minsc was sitting on one of the benches in the bath house located in the basement of the Friendly Arm Inn. The inn was built over a natural hot spring so hot water was readily available in deep stone soaking tubs. He had just finished bathing when Jeral came down for his soak. Minsc sat with a towel wrapped around his waist and a second draped over his shoulders. Jeral eyed the large man and shook his head as he eyed the massive barrel chest and broad shoulders of the ranger. The man was covered with thin hair across his chest and shoulders. The fur made him look like a bear as much as a man. Minsc was drying off his hamster with a third towel while Jeral continued enjoying his soak.

"Minsc, may I ask you a personal question."

"Of course Jeral, we are comrades in arms. You may ask anything."

"Were your parents warriors? They must have been quite strong to give birth to one such as you."

Minsc hung his head and took a deep breath as Boo squeaked in his ear.

"My parents were not warriors. My father was a wood worker and my mother was the local healer for my village. They both died when Minsc was very little."

"I am sorry for your loss. If I may ask, were they as large as you are?"

"Oh no, my father was little like you and my mother was no larger than Dynaheir." Jeral could only shake his head and smile to himself. Minsc was one of the very few who could call Jeral little given his size and Jeral could only feel sorry for the poor mother who gave birth to Minsc for he assuredly was a large baby.

"Minsc must get dressed. We are all still meeting for a mid day meal are we not?"

"That is right Minsc. See you there." Jeral laid back and luxuriated in the warm water. After his first week away from Candlekeep Jeral had a greater appreciation for regular bathing and made sure to avail himself of every opportunity. After a few more minutes he toweled off and returned to his room. Once there he dressed in his finest clothes, which really meant his only remaining set of clothes without blood stains. The dark blue tunic draped over black pants and black boots. Feeling strangely secure Jeral left his armor, long bow and short sword in the room. Tucking one dagger into his right boot and wearing a second tucked into his belt under his shirt Jeral made his way downstairs. Secure or not, it was foolish to go anywhere without a weapon of some sort.

Jeral joined the others at the table. Dynaheir and Imoen had ordered a large lunch for the six of them and Jeral arrived just after the food did. Endar Sai had quickly recovered from his captivity and had departed early in the morning. He joined a caravan of merchants headed to Baldur's Gate and pledged that he would be a useful ally should they ever make it that far north. Minsc dug into his food with gusto as the others started to speak of their plans.

"A good day to you Jeral. We were just speaking of our plans."

"Well nice to see you waited for me," Jeral quipped. Dynaheir had the good grace to blush and look somewhat ashamed before she continued.

"Uh yes, well time is a wasting. As I said, before we continue to pursue to the bandits we have need of a return trip to Beregost. We must take a step back to prepare ourselves to move forward."

"I could not agree more. Ajantis needs his armor repaired; Minsc can have that full plate adjusted to fit him, Officer Vai of the Fist needs our report and you can shop for more magic spells from the wizard who resides to the west of town. In fact, I suspect the Fist will likely reward us for our success against the bandits. So why don't all of you go and do not forget to sell that enchanted shield we picked up. Viconia and I can remain here and will await your return. I want to try out my new longbow and I can spend some time sparring with the guards here to pass my time before you return."

Dynaheir was clearly shocked that Jeral wanted the group to separate. Jeral continued the conversation as if there was no tension amongst the members of the group over the presence of the drow.

"Before you depart I have a few things to hand out. I spent some time trying to determine the value of some of the treasures we found. I sorted out most of them on my own and the good innkeeper helped on the rest. Minsc, these gauntlets make one an even more effective fighter by making each and every attack more precise. I can think of no one more worthy." Minsc nodded his thanks and returned to eating, the carcass of an entire roast chicken on the plate in front of him.

"This wand can induce extreme terror in anyone targeted. Dynaheir, I think you can best use this." The wand slid across the table to her and she smiled contentedly as she rolled the wand around in her hands examining the fine detail etched into the wand.

"Ok, there is also quite a bit of coin for each one of us as well. Each one of us gets 800 gold. I sold the jewels this morning and got a more than fair price." Viconia's eyes widened as she looked at the six heavy sacks on the table.

"Am I to understand archer that I am to share in the spoils equitably?"

"Of course Viconia. You fought with us, bled with us, and saved the lives of a few of us. You earned this as much as any."

The snort of disgust forced Jeral to make eye contact with Ajantis. The man's handsome face was twisted in anger as he spoke, "Jeral, we will likely be a tenday to Beregost and back. If the drow is here when I return, I will kill her. Her and any who foolishly attempt to stop me. To the rest of you, I leave at first light on the morrow. I will meet you at the gate at that time."

"You may try Helmite." Viconia replied in a sweet mocking tone of voice.

Ajantis ignored her mocking reply and pushed back from the table, his chair scraping on the floor of the inn, and stalked off. The rest of the party ate in a tension filled silence. After wolfing down his lunch Jeral departed and returned to his room to study the mage scrolls they discovered in the bandit camp. A gentle knock on the door broke his concentration. Sighing heavily Jeral called for the person to come in. Imoen shyly walked into the room and sat down on Jeral's bed.

"So what cha doin?"

"Trying to make sense of these scrolls. I can use these since I can cast spells from scrolls while wearing armor. You see, enchanted scrolls pull their energy from the magic imbued in the scroll vice my own energies."

Imoen rolled her eyes and made a face.

"Well no kidding O mighty bardling. I sat through Gorion's classes too, remember?" Seeing the pall fall over Jeral's features, Imoen's heart fell. "Jeral, I am so sorry to bring that up, you know I did not mean to remind you."

"It's ok. What happened, happened. I no longer dream of it every night. In fact as crazy as it sounds I wish I did."

"How can you mean that?"

"Well I am having these really weird dreams. Last night I was in a dream where I strode through the bandit camp slaying every last bandit single handed. There was blood and death everywhere and I loved it. The blood and destruction called to me. In the dream I was called a conqueror. It made little sense, but it felt so real."

Imoen shuddered and walked over to giver Jeral a hug. Looking to lighten the mood she looked at the scrolls on the table.

"Ohhhh, that one is blindness. Ummmm, that one is called prismatic spray. How bout that one?"

"That one is called Agannazar's Scorcher, it fires out a jet of flame at a point target. Imoen, I am impressed. When did you learn to read magic?"

"Well Dynaheir is teaching me a bit, but I have to tell you. It just comes easy. Before in Candlekeep I would study and study and nothing happened, I just could not fgure it out. Now I can sometimes look at a scroll and suddenly I just understand it. Somehow the runes just speak to me and make sense."

"I am impressed."

"Well sure it is impressive, I am impressive." Imown twirled in a circle and took a mock bow.

"But to be honest, I am stunned. I have no idea how is comes so easy. Magic is supposed to take years and years of study and practice and I feel I am learning it way too fast."

Shrugging her shoulders she stood up and patted Jeral on the top of his head.

"OK enough introspection. I am gonna get ready for my trip tomorrow. Dynaheir is going to make me her apprentice so I can really start learning some of this stuff. See you in a ten day. I will tell Garrick you say hi."

Imoen kissed his forhead and skipped out of the room. Jeral chuckled silently and returned to his scrolls. He called for dinner delivered to his room and spent the rest of the evening immersed in magical study. Unlike Imoen Jeral had to learn magic through rigorous study and sheer persistence.

Day 34

"Good morning Viconia."

"Good morning male."

"Uh, the name is Jeral. We do not have an audience. No need to be so snippy."

The drow sighed heavily.

"Very well. Good morning Jeral. Did you sleep well. Was your visit to the privy this morning satisfactory?"

"Um, ok maybe forget about being nice. Apparently it does not suit you."

"Your surface ways and social conventions are beyond tiresome. For the drow nothing matters but status and power. We command the lesser and grovel before our betters until we can steal advantage. Why waste time with unnecessary pleasantries?"

"Now that sounds tiresome." Looking to change the subject Jeral continued, "I plan to test out this bow today and do some shopping, what are your plans?"

"I plan to leave on the morrow."

Jeral could only stammer out a response. "Wait, What? You, you are leaving? Why?"

"Jeral you know as well as I do that two of your companions will not accept me. The Helmite and that harridan of a mage both eye me like I am a threat. If I remain with this group there will be violence. And while I could assuredly kill one of them killing both at once is likely beyond my means at this time. The mountain of the man with the rodent follows the mage so that makes three opposed to my presence if it comes to violence."

"Well I am on your side. You saved my life." Viconia snorted at Jeral's comment.

"Yes I did save your life, but that was repaying a debt. By taking me into your group you saved my life and you and Minsc saved me from the mercenary when I was at my weakest. For that you will always have an ally in me when you call. You are only the second person to ever save my life or show me real kindness."

The pain that washed over the drow's face told Jeral to not ask who the other person was.

"Well there you have it you can't leave. I am the leader of this group and we have need of a healer. Besides Imoen likes you as well." Viconia's snort gave lie to his words.

"Jeral, you are a foolish male. Your hold on leadership is tenuous at best. Look at yourself and then look at your companions. Ajantis and Minsc are able heavily armed and armored warriors who handle the bulk of the close combat. Dynaheir, despite her dour personality, is an excellent mage. Your dear sister Imoen admittedly grows on me and she is an adequate archer as well as a solid rogue, at least where locks and traps are concerned. It is clear that her love of color and youthful impateience make her ill suited to stealth. So that brings us to you. You are the third best fighter here and the second best mage. Your command of tactics is commendable and your archery skills are without equal but I am not sure that is enough."

Viconia paused for a moment before continuing. "You are handsome for a surfacer and many seem willing to follow you, but only to a point. If you take a stand over me you will lose and I will die. So I must leave. Perhaps someday you will be powerful enough to impose your will on others. The gnome innkeeper has aided me with my travel plans, I leave early on the morrow." Viconia pushed back from the table gracefully and strode for the stairs. Jeral watched her go and realized that he was going to miss her.

After a pleasing afternoon of archery practice Jeral entered the common room of the inn ready for dinner alone. To his pleasant surprise he saw Viconia sitting with the proprietor of the inn at a table by the hearth. Striding over Jeral sat down with a smile. "Good evening you two." Bentley returned the smile while Viconia did not.

"Ahhhhh Master Jeral, good eve to you as well you sir. I saw you out in the courtyard with that bow of yours. That was very impressive shooting. You took quite a few coppers from the guards." Jeral blushed and hung his head.

"Yes well I hope you also noticed that I gave the money back. I could not keep it in good conscience. I was shooting with an enchanted bow and enchanted bracers. There was no way I could lose. The bow is newly won so I wanted to see how my aim had improved."

"Well I have rarely seen better, except amongst the most able of the elven races, you are more than proficient. Your lovely companion and I were just educating one another."

"Really, how so? What do a gnome and a dark elf have in common?"

"We have little in common other than the desire for knowledge. She is educating me about the deep gnomes, my distant kinsmen of the underdark, while I am educating her on the ways of the surface, and of my people."

"And I must say you have been quite generous with your time. I may honestly say I have never had a real conversation with one of your kind. The gnomes of my home would never dare to speak with me in this manner."

Bentley chuckled and pushed himself to his feet. I will get the two of you some dinner. With a bow he excused himself and strode towards the kitchens.

"So archer, this enchanted long bow of yours, is it of elven make?" 

"Surprisingly no. From reading the runes on the bow it is of human make, and it is called the Dead Shot. It is a few centuries old based on the ancient varients of languages inscribed in the runes."

"How appropriate that an ancient human enchanted bow comes to one who has studied history his entire life. Well use it well; I suspect your road will get more dangerous as you and Imoen continue." Their dinner arrived and the two tucked into roasted quail stuffed with cheese and dates. Bentley dropped off a bottle of red wine with two silver inlaid glasses.

Winking at Viconia he walked off.

"Well you seem to have a new friend."

Viconia just shrugged and poured herself a glass of wine.

"He is a learned man starved for intelligent conversation. Few surfacers know anything of the Underdark so he was appreciative of our conversation. This is how an innkeeper expresses his thanks."

Jeral poured himself a glass of wine. It was sweet and had an excellent nose. Jeral took a sip and savored it. "This is a very nice bottle of wine."

"As I said, he was appreciative and he has amassed a very nice wine cellar over the years. So tell me how you came to be on the road. Imoen mentioned this life was thrust upon you recently."

"A little over a month ago I had never walked the groud outside of Candlekeep. I lived a sheltered life."

"What changed for you surfacer? Why would you and Imoen leave a quiet sheltered existence? Youthful desire for adventure does not seem appropriate in this case." Jeral drained his glass and poured himself another before he continued. Twirling the wine around in the glass he marveled at the rich red liquid. The color of so many things. Shaking out of his reverie he responded with only one word.

"Everything."

Day 35

Jeral groaned as he rolled over in bed. The sun streamed in through the cracks in the shutters causing Jeral's head to scream in pain. As he rolled over in bed his right hand brushed against the blankets and a jolt of pain wracked his body. Looking down he saw that three of his fingers were horribly broken and pointing in wholly unnatural directions.

_Well that was a hell of a last night with Viconia._

Gritting his teeth Jeral forced one finger, then a second back into their correct position. Sweating from the exertion, and his hangover, Jeral forced the third back into place. He then cleared his mind and focused on his hand. A cool wave of energy washed over his hand and the swollen, battered joints, quickly looked good as new. He also smiled as his hangover had pushed back into a dull ache. Sitting up in bed Jeral tossed aside the rumpled covers and sat up. As Jeral stretched he noticed a folded piece of parchment sitting on the floor, clearly slid under the door by someone out in the hallway. Jeral walked over and picked up the note. Written neatly in a tight compact hand the note was signed by Viconia. After taking a deep breath to compose himself Jeral started to read.

_Archer, _

_I wanted to again thank you for saving my life. Not too many on the _

_surface would go out of their way to aid one such as me. With the funds_

_you provided me I plan to settle down somewhere to the South of here. _

_Bentley recommended some contacts in the City of Coin. Once I reach the city I _

_may purchase a small homestead and try to get comfortable with life on the surface. _

_I owe you one last gift. There is something quite unusual about you. I_

_normally find surface males to be quite boring and lacking in any form _

_of charisma. You, at least in my limited experience with surface males, _

_are unique. There is an aura about you, I cannot explain it but it is there. _

_I find myself drawn to you for reasons I cannot explain. You are no ordinary _

_male and I suspect your life will not be a quiet one. It is likely the ones _

_menacing you also see something in you that causes them concern. _

_For that reason, that attraction I have towards you, I spared your _

_life last night after your drunken groping. Your roaming hand was _

_dealt with far more gently than I would have done normally. I granted you the_

_pleasure of a single kiss as a farewell guesture. You incorrectly took a liberty _

_to go beyond that where none was granted. Do not make that mistake again. _

_You may someday experience all of the pleasures I have to offer, but that is _

_for the future. _

_Despite it all I do hope we meet again Jeral. _

V

Jeral read through the letter once and then again savoring every word. Smiling he enchanted the paper to repel water and resist tearing before he folded it up and tucked in his coin purse. He was going to miss the drow and felt affection for her stronger than any he had experienced previously. Perhaps not love but definitely closer than anything previously.

Day 42

"Good morning to you Jeral. So is today much like every day for your past week?"

"Smiling Jeral looked up from his breakfast and nodded at the innkeeper. "Absolutely my good man. Sparring with your guards in the morning, then some archery practice, then back to my scrolls and spell books. Then a nice bath and one of your excellent feats for dinner. My friends should return in the next day or two so I must make the most of the time I have to improve my skills. I have also visited yout lovely wife in the temple and purchased a good number of healing potions and potions to counteract poison as well."

"Well you fight well from what I hear. You can best any save the captain of the guards. So you are clearly a swordsman of some skill."

"Well Bredak beat me pretty easily so I have a lot to lear.n but I am appreciative that he and the rest of the guards let me train with them."

"Ah, think nothing of it, they always love facing a new challenge in training. In addition to sword play and archery you are also a man with other talents. Let us not forget your musical skills. You are playing music on the roof late into the night. You play well, why don't you play for the guests one evening?"

"Thank you for the complement Bentley but it's private, I play for me."

"Well I will not press the matter but I will say the guests on the upper floors all love the music. They think I have provided it specificially for them."

"Well I see no reason to correct them of that notion. I find the music relaxes me, when I take the time to play I manage to sleep better. Nothing troubles my dreams when I spend some time playing music

"So, if you do not mind me asking, where are you headed next? When your friends return I mean."

"We are headed into the Cloakwood Forest in search of a secret iron mine run by the people trying to kill me."

"That forest is huge, you could wander in there for months and never find anything."

"We will be fine, we found a rough map in the bandit camp so that should aid us in our navigation."

"Well good luck to you my boy, for many venture into the Cloakwood, but few come out. Rumors persist of giant spiders and other foul creaturs ready to feed on those who cross their path."


End file.
